


Opposites Attracts (Daryl Dixon X Reader)

by MiyakoNanashi



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Gen, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 37
Words: 106,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25832188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyakoNanashi/pseuds/MiyakoNanashi
Summary: A young woman. Victim of the new infected world. Her history. Her past. Her encounters. And the fate that is reserved for her in the epidemic.A/N: my most read book on Wattpad.[STORY - 2018] - Wattpad - (possible grammatical errors)
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & You, Daryl Dixon/You, Rick Grimes & You, Rick Grimes/You
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

You hate it when the brains get stuck on the blade of your sword, because it is always a problem to clean it again. But you had no time for that. More and more Walkers appeared around you and you started running. The contact of your feet with the dry leaves lying on the ground causes, for each of your steps, noise, a soundtrack, an accompaniment melody. The Walkers turned suddenly, alarmed by your presence.

Sometimes, you always tried to reconstruct their rotting faces with your thoughts, to imagine what it was like before this nightmare, but it was useless. What they were in the past no longer matters, now there are only the living and the dead. Like prey and her hangman. Or Perpetrators and their victims.

You calmly approached a Walker and he rabidly opened his jaw. With a quick movement, you rammed your sword into his skull and he falls backwards, driven by the force you muster. You would like to wake up and find yourself in your bed, understanding that you only had a long bad dream, knowing that nothing has changed, that the world hasn't become hell.

You went among the dense trees, highly concentrated not to lose the way. The sun shone and irradiated the surroundings, which made you happy. The winter was very hard, you risked several times a hypothermia and many of your former companions didn't make it. It's terrible to think about it, but you had to burn their bodies to keep the rest of the group warm. Those who lost their lives because they froze to death have given their friends warmth. Half a year has now passed and you were alone. The few survivors you met survived only a blink of an eye. The news that had come to your ears had given you hope. It was told by the military, a base that could have been a second home. Nevertheless, false hopes, as always.

You already felt a knot in your stomach... Six months, an eternity. But there was a city where you already had a home. A bed, a room, safe walls, new friends. Nevertheless, you could arrive there and find that the whole city is destroyed, the undead lurking on every corner. But this scenario is nothing new. Therefore, it is better to stay on the ground with your feet. It was difficult to maintain control and clarity in those moments. After all, you didn't know what you would find on arrival. Suddenly you were in front of a floating body, a body that wanted to free itself. A hanged Walker and yet you have seen so many under these conditions. Instinctively, you brought your arm back to your sword.

Then you resumed walking. If everything went the way like it had the day you left, you would have to prepare to meet the families of fallen acquaintances. People who had someone died, someone who was waiting for their return. It was forbidden to cry with them, you had to remain proud and calm. You recognized in the distance a street and lanterns resting on a high branch.

So you dismounted and hurried along the paved road. It seemed to you as if it extended to infinity. Your eyes couldn't see the destination yet, but you knew with certainty that it was not far off. Nevertheless, the joyful waiting mingled with agonizing fear. A short time later you saw a small stream on the left side. You were tired and thirsty. Although you didn't want to stop at all, it was right to give yourself half an hour to rest. You left the road and followed the stream to the clear, spotless spring. Then you moisten your forehead and filled two bottles of water. In certain situations, you learn to appreciate every type of food, even squirrels and snakes become delicacies...

You lay stretched out on the emerald grass and watched the sky with some white clouds. In other situations, you would have benefited from this moment of calm to think. It's impossible to think about anything because if you think you're thinking of nothing, you're thinking of doing it anyway. It was neither boredom nor luck, you were just empty. The world had changed and you changed with it. What had brought you forward in those six months was the opportunity to get to the place you could call home. More than half an hour had passed and you finally got up again. You have resumed your journey and regained your strength and hope.

Nevertheless, this road seemed still endless to you. Abandoned cars, and corpses. Remnants of past lives. The sun was setting, the sky had darkened slightly as you recognized the entrance. Archers and snipers at the corners. They were still well organized without you... You slowed down as if you wanted to enjoy this vision and stood motionless in front of the sign. And now you approached the gates and then left the name of this place behind me: Woodbury.


	2. Chapter 2

The air you breathed in this environment was completely different than the one you had left behind these cold gates. As a soldier approached he showed you his straight and perfect white teeth with a smile.

"Fuck, welcome back, I still can't believe it!", he continued, gesturing and checking you as if you were an illusion. "What the hell happened and where are the others?"

You lowered your eyes to this question so as not to respond.

"I understand, we'll talk later, in the meantime follow me, they'll all be glad to see you again."

He tried to control himself, but every damn pore from him radiated joy. It was nice to be back, but Martinez never seemed so important to you. But when you saw him standing peacefully in front of you as a machine gun rested on his right shoulder, you felt better. The citizens of Woodbury ran to hug you, to greet you, some of them stroking your cheeks and some who gave you food. And then there were those who in the distance experienced the terrible fate of their loved ones and cried silently.

"Come on! In the end you have to kill them, damn it. That would be ironic!", he said and burst out laughing.

"Nonsense, but thank you."

Martinez pushed the crowd away and said they should clear the way for you.

"We will certainly organize a party for tonight.", Martinez intervened again.

Then the crowd calmed down and muttered about the party. Martinez shrugged with his usual rude methods. "Let's go to the lab first."

His hand, suddenly resting on your forearm, reminded you that everything was true again right now. When you got there, he pushed the door to open it and startled the man sitting at his desk trying to meditate.

"Milton, take off those damn glasses and see who's back!"

He turned and his eyes lit up. He scrambled to his feet, letting his chair fall back and mumbling something.

"Y/N, I... I'm really glad to see you again, you're going to have a lot of things to talk about, but at the moment I also have some information to collect on the stories of others and-...", he said pointing to a notebook on the other table: "...-now I don't want to bother you, we'll talk later, okay?"

"Great Milton, really great!", Martinez said ironically.

Milton straightened his glasses and brought his forefinger to the bridge of it.

"But I'm really happy, but..."

You decided to interrupt because Martinez always enjoyed annoying people. Nothing had really changed. It seemed impossible.

"Milton, I'm glad to see you as well, I'll tell you everything later.", you lied, because you wanted to forget certain events.

"Very good, I'll join you later, you're probably going to the Governor now, right?"

"Yes."

Milton smiled bitterly and sat down again, nodding his head. You missed this funny man, unable to show emotions, always embarrassed or in any trouble. Martinez shrugged and you both went back to the street.

"Martinez, the group is back with new weapons and supplies."

"Shumpert, look who's back!"

He greeted you warmly and shortly afterwards you moved away from Martinez and him. After all this time outside of Woodbury, you almost felt lost. You went, staring at the dirty streets, reminding yourself that you were in quite a pitiful condition. Maybe you should have freshened up first, but while you were thinking about it, you stumbled against someone. It didn't take long to find out who it was. These immaculate clothes... You slowly raised your head and looked up with the fear of losing yourself in those icy and deep eyes. Meanwhile, his hands were on your shoulders. But you were scared. An eyepatch... What the hell happened? Who hurt him? You were petrified and the Governor noticed it.

"Good afternoon Y/N. Welcome home. As you've noticed, I don't look like myself anymore, like when you left us."

Without any words, you continued to stare at him.

"Don't worry, you should take a shower and then we'll talk about it."

This bandage gave him a mysterious appearance in a disturbing way. He remained the charming and charismatic man who'd welcomed you to Woodbury months ago. The hot water that you had missed was an indescribable feeling. These little warm drops on your body, gliding on your skin. This shower cubicle and four walls... Security. You felt reborn and lighter. No traces of blood or dirt on your skin.

The backpack and the various foods were already in your apartment.

"I have had your clothes and sword washed and cleaned.", a voice suddenly came from behind you, as you came into the Governor's apartment some time later.

"Thank you.", you replied.

"I'm sorry what happened, I feared the worst, but you're here now, you're back."

You wanted to say a thousand things, but the words stuck like a knot in your throat.

"Please sit down.", he said pointing to a sofa. "We'll go step by step. First I'll tell you okay. And don't tell me you're not curious."

Right. You were curious. Angry too. You hoped in your heart that those who hurt him were dead...

"Of course I am, but first tell me, how are you? Is it still hurting?"

He put his head back on the armchair and folded his arms over his chest.

"Well, the wound is some weeks in healing process now... You know that Merle found two of his former Atlanta group people, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember his story... Those bastards who forced him to cut off his hand to survive and who left him behind."

"Right... We found out they live in a prison not far from here."

"A prison... That is a perfect place to start a life from scratch."

"They live in Block C, but with all the staff we have, we could free it from these people, trying to convince them that we could all live there together. Not that Woodbury isn't safe, but we've got a lot more space then, and it's going to be cultivable, but its leader, Rick, is crazy... He did not accept it, you know, he declared war on us, they organized an attack, they killed some of us, including Haley..."

You got up, you didn't want to hear anything anymore. The Archer at the gates of Woodbury was like a sister to you. So you approached the window and looked at the other houses.

"In any case, they overwhelmed us, we were not ready. They freed their friends and one of them, Michonne, whom I once hosted, decided to take revenge."

"What?"

"I put her and her friend Andrea in Woodbury, gave them food, shelter, safe walls and hope. Michonne decided to run, you know, while her friend stayed, but I had to kill Andrea, one of the Walkers from the lab bit her... I shot her and believe me, it was hard... "

You sighed: "I know..."

"The problem is, Michonne arrived at that very moment and wanted to convince her to follow her, so I sent my men into the woods to look for her, I wanted her to know the truth."

"So she joined this crazy group to kill you, to take advantage of her, to get in here?"

"Just because..."

"Tell me, you killed her."

"Not yet, but soon..."


	3. Chapter 3

You lay in the bed of your apartment staring at the fan blades on the ceiling, which turned quickly and inexorably. Fresh air, a little relief... You knew in your heart that on the way back you would collide with a tragedy, a loss, but you couldn't imagine that. How could one group of survivors declare war on another? You couldn't accept it. You had lost a good friend again. Was your fate perhaps to stay alone? Whenever you found affection and understanding in a person, that person had to lose his life. But it's your fault, you can't protect them... Anger penetrated you and made you jump up.

"Damn shit!", you screamed and hit the wall with your fist. The pain was slowly pervading you. You checked the joints of your right hand and noticed the wounds you had caused. It looked like they were crying red tears.

"What an idiot I am!"

You were thirsting for revenge, risking blindness with rage, but you had to calm down and regain control. The citizens gathered in the square and cheered loudly to the Governor. As soon as you bandaged your hand, you joined the excited crowd. That evening, however, they had succumbed to fear. They applauded, but you could see fear in their faces. The Woodbury attack had caused chaos. The idea of an untouchable place was destroyed. All houses were lined with lanterns full of bright colors, on the square there were garlands and stalls with various food and drinks. The Governor arrived shortly after, elegant and impeccable.

"Citizens of Woodbury, as you know, we are celebrating the return of Y/N tonight."

Milton appeared at your side. His gaze shifted to the Governor, his arms crossed. Then he spoke to you without taking his eyes off him.

"Have you already done the family tour?"

"Yes... I had to tell them that their loved ones have died as heroes."

Meanwhile, the Governor's voice came back to you.

"There were difficult times, I know, and I regret it... I worked, in fact we all worked together to further this miracle, and we certainly will not be able to turn a group of psychopaths into friends, we will fight!"

Meanwhile, Milton looked at the floor.

"It's a miracle, it's hope. Hope that will help us get what we want!", said the Governor, pointing at you and urging you to join him.

"Come on Y/N, the word is yours before we celebrate."

As you approached the Governor among the many people, you desperately tried to organize good sentences. When they arrived in front of the citizens, they shouted your name and spurred you on. Milton, on the other hand, looked at you with amusement. The Governor asked for quiet moments later and everything went quiet. No noise, only eyes full of hope.

"Hello Woodbury, I just know how grateful I am to have found this community. For so long, my life out there was hell, not just because of the lack of food or because of the undead, but also because the loss of my loved ones. I know this is a celebration, but I also want to mention those who didn't make it, I wish their death wasn't in vain, they fought for a safe place and they died for us... We all... We won't give up!"

It had gone well, you had managed to gain their confidence and their strength. The Governor was satisfied and spread his arms.

"We start the party!"

As everyone scattered and the children ran around with dolls or balloons, some men came to thank you. It was necessary to give courage and you succeeded.

"Well, I have to admit that you were not bad!", Milton said and you put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you, but to be honest much of it was improvised."

Surprised by the physical contact, he looked at your hand: "Hey, what did you do?"

"Shit."

The lightness hovered around and the bad thoughts were gone. You sat down on a wooden bench. The party was over, some tired children were leaning against their parents. The lanterns went out and many began to settle in their respective houses. Martinez was replaced for the night watch and waved to you.

"Hey, Martinez! Wait!", you called and walked quickly to him. Worried, he answered and approached you: "What's going on?"

"Where is Merle? I haven't seen him yet..."

You prayed that he was fine. Maybe he was having trouble finding new supplies or was probably drunk and still in bed. Martinez responded differently than expected. He shook his head and grunted.

"Didn't the Governor tell you? That asshole betrayed us, he betrayed us all for his brother."

At that moment you should have felt bitter and disappointed, but in truth you were happy. Happy to know that his brother was alive. You did not remember his name, but you knew how much it meant for him.

"Then at least he's alive... Who knows what he felt as-...", you started, but Martinez shoved you away.

"He cheated on us, we damn saved him back then!"

You stared at him, but understood his anger.

"I understand very well... But I'm still relieved and happy for him."

But Martinez spat on the ground, frowning.

"You don't understand all this shit."

You remained silent and confined yourself to watching him turn and leave. What an asshole. Merle deserved it, after all he had gone through. Suddenly the Governor and Milton whispered in the distance. But as they turned in your direction, you looked away. You heard the sound of their footsteps getting louder and louder. It was, of course, the Governor who immediately opened his mouth.

"We have to talk, it's important."

Milton sat at the Governor's table in his apartment, preparing to drink some tea while the Governor poured whiskey. Damn alcohol... You hadn't felt like drinking for a whole century. You smelled this dry, pungent smell. The two men noticed your appreciation. You were an open book for them. There was silence for a few minutes until the Governor started talking again.

"We need to get organized and talk about protecting ourself from a second attack."

Milton nodded and the Woodbury leader continued: "I want them dead, everyone, if they crossed that gate now, the only one I would not kill right now would be Michonne, she has to suffer."

You asked him if he had an idea or any plan. He pulled up his sleeves and rolled them to his elbow as if struck by hot flashes.

"No, but I know we can not be caught unprepared, we have to attack first!"

Milton swallowed and adjusted his glasses before answering: "But we can't attack first, we should try to argue... They were successful because Michonne had been here, she knows the place perfectly."

"We improvise... We drive there and break up the fences with a van, some Walkers in the car and we'll position snipers."

"Wait, we're not in a hurry, we could find another solution..."

"And that seems feasible? As if from a mile you couldn't see that they are my stooges!"

While the two were arguing, you ran my index finger across the smooth surface of the now empty glass. Milton was right. You had to have someone inside, someone who could win their trust.

"There will be a way..."

The Governor threw the bottle on the wall next to Milton, who started to sweat in fear. It broke into thousands of pieces that flew in different directions. He leaned on the table and leaned forward to approach his friend's face and scream with clenched teeth.

"Could you avoid throwing such a damn shit out of your mouth? Damn!"

Suddenly his muscles relaxed. He couldn't control his anger and his nerves, and ran his hands through his hair and sat down to sound neutral again.

"I must apologize, it's not your fault Milton... I'm just annoyed about useless chatter."

Milton remained motionless, but you had something because of his suggestion.

"Milton is not so wrong.", you interjected. The Governor looked at you, raised his eyebrow and opened his lips slightly. This icy eye promised pure violence...

"I could be the spy, think about it, they didn't see me on the night of the attack, same with Michonne."

He stretched his shoulders and bent his head to the right and left.

"You want to go?"

"I do it for all of us here, and I could often come back to provide as much information as possible."

"Suppose Rick accepts you, what will you do? They will not trust you right away."

"I know. I'll have to work hard, but I can do it."

Milton suddenly cleared his throat and broke in, sounding anxious: "I don't want to be meticulous, but there's Merle..."

The Governor laughed... It was a monstrous and wicked laugh...

"Didn't I tell you that I killed him?"


	4. Chapter 4

You were hoping not to leave these solid walls after a long time and instead you're here. Backpack on shoulder, Katana in hand, weapon in holster. The clothing? Well, the same one you had as you arrived the. You had to be credible. You looked like you had been through a lot. You were curious, you really longed for the meeting, you wanted to get to know their faces, their secrets. But you also feared failing not to be accepted... Still, it was a mission and nothing else. You had to give up the desire to take revenge and cut throats. The details, the discipline, you had to take care of these aspects. The Governor, Milton, and Woodbury were counting on you. Crowley, one of the Governor's army men, approached you.

"Are you ready?"

"I guess so."

He smiled slightly and greeted you with bright eyes. You knew how he felt, he didn't want to see you go. This man liked you as if you were his sister. But he didn't want to talk to you, because the trip you had decided was also against him. You went but stopped at the threshold of the gates. Martinez didn't speak to you. Was he still insulted? You also wondered if he knew what had happened to Merle... The inhabitants of the city looked at you both melancholy and grateful. You risked not to return. You tried to show yourself positively and smiled, but your stomach was in turmoil. Damn nerves... You were stressed, tired. You hadn't fully recovered yet. But you were eager to reach your destination. Milton didn't show up and you couldn't wait any longer. The gates were opened after checking that the area was safe. The Governor accompanied you for a while, remained silent and thoughtful. It wasn't pleasant to hear the crunch of the dried leaves again. Although it was summer, many trees were already bare. As you looked at the bare branches, which were entwined and intertwined, Philip addressed you.

"Y/N..."

He held you gently to him. You felt his warm breath on your neck and a shiver ran down your back, so much that you had to hold your breath. You both stayed as if you were waiting.

"If something goes wrong or the situation gets too complicated, come back. We can not accept the idea of losing you."

"It will not happen, trust me."

Worry and fear were clearly visible on his face. You would show everyone what you're capable of. You then went away as if nothing had happened. And so you returned to nature, to danger, to reality. It was frustrating to trace this melancholy path, to notice the marks on the bark and cores of a rotten apple on the ground. The worms gathered hurriedly and convulsively around the remains. As you stared in disgust at the fruit flesh, two Walkers noticed you. They removed their teeth from the carcass of an animal and their jaws stuck out. Luckily, they were far apart. You held your breath and went to kill them one after another. What a nice feeling. You loved fighting with the katana, it was more satisfying. Using a firearm was easier of course, if you were faced with a herd, an AK-47 would have been much more convenient, faster, and more effective. The sword was not suitable for all situations, but when the opportunity came, you used it. As soon as you were done you looked at the map on which the route was marked. A big X marked the prison. You thought of the night before, of Philip's confession. Merle is dead. He killed him for no apparent reason. Yes, that was a little personal revenge. The Governor hadn't forgiven Merle, he didn't care that he had come back to sort it out. As Martinez said, he betrayed you all... You had not lost faith in this man at all, but you had realized what he was capable of. You hoped the conquest of the prison would mollify the beast in him. But Merle's twisted fate destroyed you. He had found his brother again... Milton had explained his hypothesis after leaving the Governor's house. He was convinced that he felt guilty. He would live in the prison with the enemy, without remorse. But the Governor... He couldn't let him go, he wouldn't let himself be turned away from him. He had chosen them. His choice, his conviction... That's how he had declared himself innocent. With a smile, satisfied with himself, he had said: Everyone is the architect of his own destiny. You had a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn't do anything. Who knows how they did to him and his brother... You regretted it a little and it would have been difficult for you to kill his brother. You would see Merle's face in his face... Anyway, you tried to escape your tense thoughts and concentrated on a blood-soaked tent in the distance. Carefully, you slipped into the tent with the weapon already drawn. The stench of the rotting body was unbearable... A hole in his head, a magnum in his hand. The person committed suicide. You rummaged among the objects in the tent and found only empty bottles and food that was more than expired. Then you rummaged in his pockets. A lighter and a torch. A relatively good prey. So you got out again and went your way. It was not a simple lighter, but an engraved Zippo. It said: FUCK YOU. Somehow ironic... But finally you saw a tower in the distance between the trees and bit your lip. The time had come to begin your mission. When you were close enough to seek protection, you watched the movements within the fences. An elderly man was watering a piece of cultivated land. He rested on crutches. The leg... He was probably injured during the attack... A boy with a sheriff-hat and an young Asian man leaned against the fence, working on trunks and making sure they were able to counterbalance the weight of the many Walkers. You moved again, looking for a different view. From the new perspective you could see other individuals. A young woman chuckled with another young woman. The blonde held something in her arms, but you couldn't tell what it was. Suddenly a red iron door from Block C opened. The result was a man with slightly wavy dark brown hair. His hands were clenched in fists. He was wearing a shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark trousers. Everyone turned to him and he approached the entrance to the fence, only to check the work of the young man and the child. Watchful eyes, attentive to every detail. You had no doubt, he is the boss. Rick... Only these few people were present in the prison yard. The others could have been inside, or engaged in a search for supplies. But the general situation seemed peaceful. They had organized themselves well, the prison had become practically a home. Vegetable garden, pigs, barrels full of water, boxes full of weapons and ammunition. Not bad... Were they really that dangerous? They did not look like the people the Governor warned you about. To get closer without having to deal with dozens of undead, you would have to smear yourself with their blood and guts. You descended from the easy elevation and circled the perimeter of the fence, which for the most part remained hidden among the many branches. You quickly killed a Walker and dipped your hands in the stinking mixture of blood and rotten organs. You didn't know why, but you held your breath while you passed through this lazy mass of the living dead. None of these monsters took care of you. Suddenly a woman saw you that you hadn't noticed before. You had your eyes fixed on hers. She had very short and gray hair and looked at you until she decided to turn around and speak to Rick to take a look. He looked at you confused and suspicious. You stopped motionless while the Walkers moved around you and produced their usual grunts. Yet you had to fight to hide the hatred you felt for him and his people... It seemed like you communicated without words. The name 'Carl' sounded, and the boy ran to activate the mechanism of the strange gate they had created. That was the signal. He had decided to let you in. Exceeding this threshold meant opening a dialogue. The gray-haired woman aimed a rifle at your temple. The others positioned themselves behind you. No one opened his mouth and Rick kept staring at you. His eyes seemed almost lost. He took a few steps forward and put his hands on his hips.

"Who are you and what is your name?"

You had to stay calm, to seem harmless. He had not decided yet...

"My name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N...", you answered and your voice was firm, but quiet.

"Are you alone or do you have a group nearby?"

"I'm alone."

You looked at the rifle and Rick understood. He nodded and the woman lowered the weapon. You also noticed that the old man wasn't hurt, but he had lost a leg.

"Y/N, now I'll ask you three simple questions, answer me sincerely and you'll prove yourself... If you want that."

The armed woman didn't seem to agree. Again she raised the rifle: "Rick, why? You don't even know who she is, you can't let her in just like that!"

"Carol, lower the gun..."

"Why should she stay with us? It could be dangerous, Dad!", said the boy named Carl and looked threateningly at you.

"And why shouldn't we?", the old man said. "After all, she's alone, what harm could she do?"

The brunette girl nodded: "My dad is right."

So the old man was the father. The gray-haired woman's name was Carol and the stubborn child Carl...

"Dad, why?", Carl shouted in a louder tone.

"Carl, we need help. We need people who are willing to fight with us if the Governor attacks us again."

At that moment, you wanted to throw yourself to the ground with laughter. Damn, what an absurd situation... Carol withdrew the rifle and went away indignantly. The old man looked at Rick and smiled.

"Back to the topic... How many Walkers have you killed?"

So that was the first of the three questions...

"Too many to count."

He tilted his head slightly...

"How many people have you killed?"

Your family...

"My family, I had to kill the past."

He shrugged and looked down...

"Why?"

His eyes returned to you...

"They were infected."


	5. Chapter 5

You put your arms on an aluminum table that was in contact with the cold wall. The environment was dark. The gray plaster already crumbled when you just looked at it. Although the floor and the various as good as surfaces were dust-free, the small light that fell through the thick windows gave the impression of a dirty and deserted place. If you had managed to conquer this prison, you would have had to work hard to make it inviting, otherwise the citizens of Woodbury would not have liked to accept this... Not that aesthetics are important, but it certainly would have helped and appeased those who resisted them. It had already made unpleasant comments about it, because nobody wanted to live in a prison. Who could blame them? Used to luxury, they would not have enjoyed the new arrangement, although it was definitely safer. Unfortunately, only a few could understand that. Some round tables were in the middle of the room. A cabin above, the station of the prison guard. You were maybe in the area that was used for the recreation area. The others stared at you behind a barred door that allowed access to the cells. The elderly man, however, was sitting on two steps in your area, with his crutches next to it.

"Listen... Here are my rules. For the first you sleep in this part. I will take your weapons and they will not be given to you until I think it is appropriate. Do you want to come out? - Ask me for permission. Do you want to be useful? - Ask me what you can do. Do you want to go to the bathroom? - You can report it to me. I need to know about each of your moves, is that clear? You have to earn our trust. I have allowed you to enter and now it is in your hands... You won't listen? - You are banished. Do you threaten some of us? - Then I kill you. I'm not condemning you, I'm just warning you, okay?", Rick said, walking back and forth in front of you.

There were visible sweat marks on his shirt, but they were not only caused by high temperatures, but also by nervousness. This man has stirred you up. You just had to look at him and you were already desperate. It seemed that whatever he did was a burden... He handed your weapons behind the bars, to the woman from before: Carol. Her eyes promised little good. She would never lose sight of you. The Asian was dissatisfied with your condition, but sighed. He knew it was the right thing. They trusted Rick. But Carol seemed to you to be the troubling element of the group, the one that repeatedly challenged the decisions. Maybe something happened in the past that she had not forgiven him yet...

"Are there any questions?", Rick asked you suddenly.

"Where are the shower rooms?"

Rick frowned. Maybe he had expected something different after his intimidating monologue. But you were more urged on yourself to remove the disgusting, now dry guts from yourself. The man with the crutches meanwhile tried to suppress a laugh.

"You have to excuse me, sometimes I forget my manners.", you said, turning around and smiling at him, finally showing yourself sociable.

"I'll show you the way.", the old man said, heading for a corridor, but Rick stopped him.

"Hershel, I'll take care of it, you stay here."

So that was his name... Hershel understood his fear and entered the tract where the others of the group were. So you had to follow Rick. The corridor was narrow but well lit. Many doors followed each other. He pointed to the arrows on the wall. They had marked the route. Probably the excluded areas were not completely cleared. You walked by his side and saw a door ajar, but couldn't see anything. Out of the corner of your eye, you only noticed a red and rusty toolbox. Rick rubbed his neck with his left hand while his right hand grabbed the revolver from his holster. After a few meters, he suddenly stopped and showed you the shower area.

"I'll stay out here and wait."

"Mr. Grimes?"

"Yes?"

"I forgot my clothes..."

The expression he assumed was a mixture of astonishment and annoyance. He coughed and cleared his throat.

"Okay... Are they in your backpack?"

"Yes..."

He turned and began to go back all the way. You waited for him to turn the corner and count for a short while before moving. The lounge and bathrooms were exactly 90 seconds apart. So you had a timeframe of about two minutes, considering you had gone much faster. You literally ran on tiptoe trying to remember the height of the open door. As soon as you found it, you jumped to the toolbox and hoped to find something useful. Otherwise the clothes would have served little... A big screwdriver, a wrench, a few screws, a broken hammer. Shit... You needed something subtile, something you could safely hide. You looked around quickly, desperate like a hatched deer running away from a hunter. Twenty seconds, just twenty seconds before he came back. But you did not have time to go back. You heard the sound of footsteps echoing between the walls. You had to improvise, so you went back into the hall, freed your neck from a necklace you always carried with you and threw it far away on the floor. Then, as if nothing had happened, you went to it. Rick put the bag in his hand on the ground and when he saw you, he quickened his pace.

"Where are you going?"

You did not answer and leaned over your knees to pick up the necklace and pretended to be afraid to lose it again. Then he handed you the bag and you thanked him. You went back to the showers, he stood next to the door and relaxed his back against the wall.

"Rick, one more thing...", you started and looked down at him dejectedly: "If you are so worried that I am dangerous, why did you let me in?"

"I think it's now normal, especially in this new world, to be suspicious... Don't you think, you know, you're not the first person to show up in front of our bloodied gates, the context was different, but I did good to trust her.", he replied.

"I understand..."

It made sense, in short, it was logic. "And is the person still here?", you asked curiously and he smiled.

"Yes, but not right now, you'll meet her tonight, you two resemble each other, I think Michonne would even agree.", he continued to smile.

~

The blood carried by the water slid into the drain and formed eddies. Finally you felt clean again. That disgusting smell was gone. As fussy as you were, you never thought that you could survive in an apocalypse. The blood or the sight of a rotting body did not bother you anyway. Having worked on special army operations, you had definitely seen worse. But you did not think that one day you would be in this mess, forced to rub yourself with rotten organs...  
How had Rick dared to compare you to this killer? You were not at all similar... Your clothes were soaked in cold water in one of the sinks. The spots should disappear. You closed the faucet and leaned your palms against the tiles that covered the wall. How long would you resist in the company of these people, the urge to kill them? Rick got on your nerves somehow and Carol apparently hated you... With the exception of Hershel, you felt like you had returned to school. You felt bad with your companions. How could you not lose control? How could you give up the urge to smash their faces? If the Governor wanted to make things easier, like on a hill, for example, you could kill them with a tactical sniper rifle. Of course it wouldn't have been so satisfying if they had lost their lives without suffering. You wiped yourself with a towel and put your crumpled clothes in your bag. A pair of black jeans with a hole on the right knee and a dark top. As soon as you finished, you entered the corridor, where you saw Rick looking impatiently.

"Did I take too long?", you asked, your still wet hair helping you fight the heat.

"No, it's okay."

Apparently he was worried about something else.

"Listen, I thought I was going out to the yard to let my hair dry out in the open air, do I have your permission?"

"Yes, go...", he said hastily, as if he wanted you to remain silent. "I have to talk to Carol."

You were happy, you were allowed to go unaccompanied. You were curious to know more, but you rather went out... You saw Carl at the corner of the fence and was busy throwing pebbles at the Walkers, who clung to it. The rotten fingers drove through the holes in the fence and longed for fresh meat. Carl spared the Walkers and sat cross-legged on the ground. Luckily the boy had not seen you, so you checked the size of the prison. You looked at the watchtowers, the fences, the boxes of ammunition and weapons. A real arsenal... You noticed several gates locked with chains and padlocks. The block next door was occupied by some Walkers. You had to get out of the group necessarily more information and disguise the questioning with a simple chatter. You would start with Hershel the next morning. You clung to the fence and tugged at various points to analyze the condition, then went back to your round of exploration. You noticed bags with baby food. But that is not possible... Was there a baby in the prison? Your mind projected the image of the blonde from behind, the arms were busy holding something up. A mother? You couldn't believe it... A sharp tone interrupted your thoughts. Immediately, your body turned in the direction from which it had come. It all happened very fast, although the time seemed slower. Your eyes focused on the fence and recognized a rusty area. A Walker crossed the threshold and passed through the iron fence that had separated and protected you all. The Walker pointed to the boy and hurried to him. Carl, unaware of the danger, got up to go back to the prison. You screamed his name, but he did not hear you. The Walker stretched out his arms and came closer and closer. If only you had your weapons... But suddenly you saw Rick appear across from you. He yelled his son's name and took the revolver from his holster. As soon as Carl realized what was going on, he started running desperately. From the heat and the drama of the moment, the boy's father had not noticed your presence. You were both on your way to Carl and knew that you would never be there in time. The living dead man was behind him now and grabbed him. The boy tried to free himself from the grip before the teeth penetrated his neck. He collapsed to the ground. You closed your eyes for a second and when you opened them, you were beside the bastard who had bent over his prey. With the full force of your body, you kicked his skull. The Walker stumbled. Then you remembered the wrench... You grabbed it and pierced through the chin, tongue, wedged on the palate and finally rammed it into his brain. Intoxicated by anger, you rushed to him again and penetrated with the tool into the eyeball and reached the brain again. A heartbreaking sound suddenly stopped your breath. Behind you, Carl was covered with the Walker's organic substances, Rick had thrown himself on his son and hugged him. The boy did not speak and was shocked. He had not understood the dynamics of what was happening yet, all he knew was that he had probably faced Death again. Rick controlled his son's body with rage for fear of finding a few scratches. You yourself were not sure... You had been so busy running that you did not notice that detail. When you heard a nervous laugh mixed with sobs, you realized that Carl was fine. The adrenaline disappeared and you could feel the trembling of your tired legs. It was like involuntarily imitating the decaying person and falling to your knees. You were relieved. You saved a life. Rick rocked compulsively and held his boy tight. On your right thigh, you noticed a thin, red trickle running between the rotten blood. But you did not feel any pain. You relaxed your grip, but you did not give up the weapon. While Rick, still in shock, rested his face in the boy's hair, his eyes were fixed on you. You walked slowly to them, but suddenly it was burning. A terrible sting swept over you. A sharp, agonizing pain. Impulsively you stiffened. You looked down to see where this suffering came from. An arrow... An arrow stuck in your side. Suddenly you felt weak and everything around you went dark...


	6. Chapter 6

{She was crying in your arms. You wanted to comfort her, mumble with sweet words, that everything would be solved, that your Mom would be healed. The news broadcasts spoke of a new disease, a virus that has never before existed. The symptoms were not yet clear, for the moment the affections showed muscle pain and very high fever, which also caused hallucinations. Your dad went to the kitchen and filled a towel with ice.

"She sleeps, but her head is very hot, the ice should help her."

He spoke without looking at you, hoping that you would not notice the terror in his face, and went back into the bedroom. You knew your Mom would not make it, she would not last much longer. The pain killers were useless. Any kind of medicine was inefficient. Scientists and doctors worked together and tried to find an antibiotic, but it was obvious that the first infected would die. Your little sister wiped away her tears.

"Are you lying Y/N?", she asked you and you lost yourself in her anxious eyes.

"No... I'm just scared..."

"I don't want Mom to die!", she replied and you held her to you.

The TV interrupted a program to broadcast news related to the epidemic. But what you saw just made you even more nervous. The infected were affected by sudden outbursts of rage and became aggressive towards anyone close to them. Patients didn't recognize their loved ones. They were just hungry. You turned off the TV immediately. Luckily, your little sister had not seen anything and lay with her face on your chest. But your heartbeat quickened... Your mother would have become a monster. It could attack us, kill us... You had to do something to stop it. You would not let her hurt anyone. But you still hoped for the possibility of a cure.

"Hey... Sweetie, listen to me, go to your room, I'll talk to Dad for a minute and then I'll be back, okay?"

"I want to go to Mommy..."

"She sleeps sweetie, you'll talk to her when she wakes up, now go to your room and pick a movie, okay, we'll look it together."

She nodded sadly, picked up her stuffed animal and went to her bedroom. You had to tell your dad what could have happened. It was dangerous to be near her now. So you went to the guest room. Your mother lay stretched out under the blankets. The long curls framed her face. A wet towel on the forehead. Your Dad was sitting in a wooden chair near his beloved wife's body, changing the towel each time, replacing it with a cooler one.

"Y/N, I don't know what to do. I feel damn useless."

You did not want to tell him about the epidemic's degeneration, but he risked his life to be so close to her.

"Dad, the situation has worsened... The news..."  
You could not find the words, you could not find the right way to tell him. Talking about it would only make everything more real.

"The sick go crazy, they become dangerous, they attack those who are near them, they no longer recognize their family..."

"It's not possible... What the hell is happening here?"

"I don't know, I don't understand it myself...", you sighed.

"What can we do then? If we can not get any closer, how can I give her the medicine... I lock her up in a room and go? We stay home and do nothing, hoping that any idiot find a cure?"

He did not cry, but his eyes were clear.

"I don't even know if some idiot, as you say, will find a cure or not, the fact is that we have to stay away from her..."

"No, Y/N, I'm not moving away from here, in the past I've often left her alone because of my work."

"At least allow me to tie her up, for her and our safety."

"You pretend it's a dangerous madness, but I don't think so, you know how the mass media are, they exaggerate everything, they just want to scare us!"

You got impatient: "Damn Dad, you're so blind you do not understand it's not just a disease! It's not a flu or any other of that shit! It's something we've never seen before!"

He remained silent and struggled with himself. He knew you were right, but he did not want to accept it and gently stroked the cheeks of his beloved wife. Suddenly she woke up wide-eyed and shaken by convulsions. Your Dad leaned over her and mumbled something and you stopped in shock at the door. It was terrible to see her like that. Whatever happened, it was like a nightmare. The bed creaked. Your mother jumped off the mattress and grabbed your father and dug her nails into his flesh. He screamed, trying to push her away, but was bitten by her in his neck...}

Shocked, you raised your heavy eyelids. Everything was confusing and seemed so blurry. You moved, but you did not understand how. Pain, only pain... Your eyes closed. You could not keep them open, it was too tiring. You felt broken, but still tried to recognize something. You saw a gray wall, alternating with long ceiling lights. Arrows on the walls... Someone took you to the cells in the main room. A strong smell of iron. Blood, you lost a lot of blood... You remembered what happened. Carl. The Walker. The arrow. Your senses were poorly defined. You heard hasty steps. Further steps. But every sound was muffled. Something grabbed your arm, you saw fingers that were stained with dirt and blood. You were with someone and tried to look up again to understand who it was. It was Rick.

"She's awake, she's still alive!"

A woman's voice countered: "At the moment, she has lost too much blood!"

Rick increased the speed. He wanted to save you. Idiot. It would be better for him to let you die. You smiled, made a grimace and fainted again. The cold contact of a smooth surface woke you up and you had been lying on a table. A figure came to you, but you could not recognize his face. You only saw a dark shadow that introduced something into your arm. He sat down and began to touch where you were bleeding. You wanted to say that the person should stop, that it hurts terribly. But you didn't have the strength. Maybe he tried to get the arrow out. Once removed, the pain became more oppressive and intense. Your stiffened your jaw and clamped your teeth together.

"Is it very serious Hershel?", Rick asked excitedly.

The figure turned and replied: "She has a lot of internal bleeding, but I'll do everything I can."

Hershel tried to treat you. Either he was a doctor or a simple man who had some experience in this world. You did not know... The two men were worried about your life. Two people of those you should have killed in the future...

"Why the hell did you shoot?", Rick yelled at someone.

A voice answered, but from where you are, you could not see who it belonged to.

"Told ya' why! What should I think? I come back, I see ya' desperate 'nd Carl on the ground 'nd that crazy bitch 's covered in blood 'nd limpin' toward ya'! Damn! What would ya' 've done when-... ", the person explained, but Rick interrupted him angrily.

"What I would have done? I would not have fired, but you have!"

"Listen, I know I 's wrong, but I acted instinctively, there 's that hole 'n the fence! Thought she came in 'nd killed yer son!"

You felt Hershel's fingers move in your flesh to stop the bleeding. A terrible feeling. He squeezed and wiped the wound with a cloth. Then he asked someone to give him something.

"Didn't you even come up with the idea to ask first and then do something if necessary?"

The other remained silent, after all it was useless to continue the conversation.

"She saved Carl, if she hadn't been... Do you understand Daryl?"

This name told you something, but you could not remember. Your mind was too busy receiving the pain. It burned. You felt Hershel sew your skin together. When you looked up, you saw an infusion bag. The man stood up smiling and said that you'll make it. Yoy do not know why, but you've lost your senses again. When you woke up, you noticed that you had regained your eyesight and sensibility. So you tried to sit up, but a sudden sting didn't allow you and you cried out in pain.

"She's awake again!", Carol announced.

The whole group surrounded you the next moment. They were all relieved. You tried again to sit up and this time someone put out an arm to help you. As you sat, you could find out who it was. The first thing you noticed was the ragged clothes. A sleeveless leather jacket emphasized his muscles. A light unkempt beard. His hair partially covered his crystalline blue eyes. A deep, determined look. Then you saw that he was carrying something on his shoulder. A crossbow.

"So you are the bastard."

A grimace appeared on his face. The others laughed. And Rick looked more worried.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for what happened, I can only say thank you for what you did, I was too far away, I couldn't have done it... Well, you got it... We decided that you would stay with us officially.", Rick said suddenly. You were thrilled and Carol put a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry that I doubted."

"It's normal not to trust right away, I probably would have too.", you said, trying to calm her down.

"It was a misunderstanding, and yet we have not introduced ourselves, I'm Glenn, that's Maggie and that-...", Glenn started, informing you about the different names and finally introducing you to the whole group. The blond girl entered the room holding a baby in her arms. You were shocked. The others noticed and explained the whole story to you. Rick, on the other hand, frowned and went out. Beth put Judith in her bed and tried to get her to sleep. Hershel put the medical tools in place. Glenn and Maggie went to the prison yard to keep watch. While Rick and Carol got ready to fix the fence. It occurred to you that in none of the girls did you hear the voice you had heard on the way to the sheriff. A woman was still on appeal and it must have been Michonne. Daryl, the only one around, jumped to the table and sat next to you.

"Almost killed ya'."

You looked at him annoyed: "True, but unfortunately you can not aim."

He shook his head, grinning slightly: "Was aimin' for the head, but ya' got up."

"What can I say, thank you for targeting my head when I got up?", you said sarcastically and smiled hastily.

"Maybe. Gotta go to get some supplies out of the car now.", he said, mumbling.

He jumped down and left, still holding the crossbow on his shoulder. The attitude, the way of going, reminded of Merle's personality. Shit. He is it. Daryl Dixon... You wanted to follow him, ask him about his brother, know how they said goodbye. Maybe they had a fight. It would have been right to tell him the truth. But you remained helpless on this table. The pain had not quite disappeared, but thanks to some of the painkillers Hershel had given you, they had at least become more docile. Although you only knew these people for a day, you felt their strong connection. They were not just survivors, they were a family. You wondered why Rick had rejected the Governor's idea... Philip had not told you everything, there had to be something else... However, the fact remained that Michonne acted like a bitch. You had a sad expression on your face that Hershel noticed and stopped beside you.

"Is everything okay? Apart from the problems with dressing?"

When he was next to you, you had a strange feeling. He was too good-natured, one of those men who were destined to die. But he could calm you down.

"Yes, I was just thinking."

"May I ask what exactly?"

"Well... You're a nice group, more than just that... A family."

"You're right, we've become a family, you see, I've been with Maggie, Beth, my wife... In short, I lived on a farm with my then family, I was a man of faith and I was convinced that the infected could be treated, that they were still human. And then one day I saw a sheriff running into my house with an injured boy in his arms, it was almost impossible for him to be saved, but I did. And I greeted the man, his wife, and his group because they had no place to go, Carol's daughter was gone, Otis lost his life to get medical supplies, but his victim allowed Carl to be saved. Not long after, they discovered the Walkers in my barn... I just thought of my family and when they tried to explain to me that the Walkers should be killed, I wanted to throw them out of my house. Shane opened the barn doors later. He shot her. I felt lost, empty. I saw my wife collapse on the floor. I would have to face her death. But what overwhelmed everyone was the sight of Carol's daughter. She had always been in that damn barn... Otis had found her. I knew nothing about it. They accused me... I wanted them to leave, but I was their debtor because they opened my eyes. Then a herd came and we had to flee. We had losses but the time together united us. We trust each other blindly.", he told you.

You looked at him and said nothing. You realized: These people couldn't be the bad guys. You had to find out what really happened...

"And now we're here, we're trying to rebuild our lives."

"Do you think it will take a long time?"

"Probably, but if we couldn't make it here, it will not be a problem, we'll find another place.", he smiled, tapping his fingers on the table.

"The group to which I belonged lacked this component..."

"You are now part of this group."

You were surprised. You knew that was not what everyone thought, but only the fact that Hershel considered you a new member of the family convinced you. You thanked in disbelief and jumped up, yet you had to pay attention to your movements, or risked reopening the wound.

"Y/N, one more thing...", he said and his voice went quiet, hoping not to be heard by others: "You owe Rick an explanation because you were armed, he did not want to speak in front of the whole group, but it is better if it is clarified."

"I haven't thought about it yet... But I didn't want to hurt anyone..."

He interrupted you in a relaxed tone: "I know, don't worry, and I can understand if you don't want to talk about the incident."

Could he really be so good-natured or was he just acting like that? The Governor warned you that he said they were very good actors. They pretended to bring the people who met them to their side and let them fight for wrong things. But none of that you saw was true. So far... Maybe you should have waited. Still trembling a bit, you walked along the long corridor. There were still bloodstains on the floor. Outside, you were looking for Rick. The fence had already been repaired and Carol helped Daryl. You saw the sheriff busy ramming a crowbar into the skulls of the various Walkers pushing against the fence. So you went to meet him and waited for him to notice your presence. You did not want to interrupt his slaughter. After about twenty dead bodies on the ground, he finally noticed you.

"Y/N, how are you feeling?", he asked, wiping his sweaty hands on his shirt and trying to gather himself.

"Hershel did a great job. Do you need help?"

He threw the object on the ground. "I'm done for today, apart from the heroic action... The fact remains that you were in possession of a weapon. We had a deal."

"And I broke it, I know, but I did not intend to use it to hurt you or anyone else."

"I can not be completely sure... I don't know where and when you took it, but don't violate the most important rule: Do what I say. Okay? Here they all count on me, I do not want to be wrong, if I trust you, though I owe you something."

"Rick, I will not let you down."

"Good."

He walked past you and wiped his forehead with his wrist. The Walkers grumbled hungrily and trampled on the bodies of their companions. And you wondered if someday you be would like them...

"Y/N?", Rick said again, turning and slowing down his pace. "Tomorrow morning you will go on a run, we have used up the supplies of painkillers and other medicines, I want to see how you can deal with it. Michonne will be with you."


	7. Chapter 7

You went side by side. She wasn't a woman of many words. A quality that you still appreciated. You couldn't bear to talk to her. You tried to tell yourself not to kill her, though your mind gave you a thousand ways to do it. Her own Katana swung to the rhythm of her footsteps. Dark dreadlocks on her shoulders, a bandana in her hair. Athletic. Pretty. But a personality hiding a dark side. She seemed offended, as if she wasn't satisfied with the task assigned to her. She felt compelled to keep an eye on you, but you could understand it. She had no idea who you were, what you could do... The mission was pretty easy to get medical supplies, but in this world there was nothing easy and obvious anymore. When you were close enough to the pharmacy of a ruined small town, she pulled out the katana. After you killed a Walker you entered a house and heard noises above you. Yoy also took out your katana. As you went up the stairs, two Walkers were pointed at you. You stuck to the idea Michonne had suggested to you. You cut off their jaws with the blade and Michonne robbed them of their upper limbs. You were a little hesitant. You didn't know if with these two simple Walkers the little herd wouldn't recognize you, but she was sure it would work. That wasn't the first time... So you went back to the street. Slowly, carefully, to avoid any suspicious movement, you both passed through the crowd of living dead. It was a tricky situation, but at the same time you were almost amused. You never thought of using a Walker as a pet. You kept him on a leash, like a dog. Being with them means being like them. That's why the Walkers didn't notice your presence. You continued at a slow pace until you saw the building on the street corner. From the outside, it seemed to be in good condition. In front of the entrance was a large chain, enriched by the respective padlock. Someone had already gone that way... However, you had hoped to find something that was helpful, but there was the possibility that another group had already taken everything.

"Did you find something?", Michonne asked a short time later.

"No, just a few pills, but we could still look around in the storage room."

"Yes, maybe something is still there."

Her annoyed tone made you think that she had a feeling for it, but you were not sure if that was just it. Maybe she was careful because she didn't know you long enough. But the door to the storage room was locked from the inside. When you tried to crack the lock, the door snapped back and suddenly opened.

"Go back!", a man shouted. But the first thing you saw was the barrel of a .44 Magnum aimed at your forehead. You got up and went back to see another man coming forward, pointing his sawed-off shotgun at your companion. She remained silent, one hand behind her head, holding the hilt of the sword.

"We don't want problems, this is our refuge, so get out and nobody gets hurt...", the stranger ordered. The first person was characterized by a slim figure and a work suit. The other man, imposing, wore a large red plaid shirt. Behind them you noticed ammunition, bottles and canned food. They had supplies and feared that someone might steal their food. Their threatening attitude was tense. Neither you nor Michonne took them seriously. Their attitude betrayed incompetence in close combat, you could have killed them immediately, because none of them would fight and you could steal their supplies. But you could have negotiated. The problem was that you had little available and there was also the possibility that they would refuse. First of all, the situation had to be clarified. It hurt to admit it, but the complicity of Michonne would have been useful. You looked each other in the eye. To disarm the man, you would have had to be very quick. The movements to be performed are very simple, but to get a result, you have to be precise. You would have to hit the enemy's wrist with stiff palms. The left hand must slide against his wrist, so that the weapon is aimed at the bastard's body. At that moment, the opponent's grip would be weaker for a fraction of a second and you can rob him of his own weapon. Michonne would have to act as soon as you had his wrist and aimed her sharp blade at the other's neck. A wrong action and everything would take a new turn. The asshole could have shot you. A quick, clean punch, and the revolver was in your hands. Too easy... You were relieved to see the immovable man being threatened by the katana.

"We do not want problems, but we need a few things... Medicine...", you said firmly. They remained silent.

Maybe they felt humiliated. In short, beaten by two women. Then you continued the conversation: "I suggest I make an offer, and if you give us some antibiotics and painkillers, we'll escort you out of this town in return, and we'll teach you how to go unnoticed among the Walkers."

You could feel Michonne's eyes peeking, but you didn't lose eye contact with the two men. One of them shrugged slightly, as if to explain that he had surrendered, while the other seemed to have doubts.

"And if we don't accept it?"

"Quite simply, we go without the meds and you stay here waiting for the Walkers out there, of course you can not go out and kill them because there are too many... You don't have enough ammo and the shots would only attract more."

"Okay, Deal, our life for some meds seems more than reasonable, just painkillers and antibiotics right?"

You lowered the gun, took the ammunition, and returned it. Michonne did the same, lowered her katana, and took the other man's rifle.

"Now that I think about it, there's something else...", you replied with a grimace. A big question mark appeared on Michonne's face. Who knows what she would have told Rick? The man looked at you seriously and feared that you had betrayed them.

"Your plaid shirt, I like it."

~

The gates opened and you trotted inside. The different members of the group were busy. Everyone has something to do. They seemed to be preparing for an attack.

"Hey, have you been shopping?", Glenn laughed, pointing to the shirt you were now wearing over your top.

"Is a gift, just like the medication."

Glenn looked surprised: "A present?"

"Let's call it the spontaneous granting of two strangers.", you replied with a smile. He shook his head laughing and threw a knife to you. "Come, let's get rid of a few Walkers and reinforce the fence."

The undead crashed one after the other. Once the accumulation of these creatures was reduced, you proceeded to improvements to the fence. You lifted one of these heavy tree trunks and put it between the ground and the fence, because it had to serve as a support. Hershel watched you from a distance and took care of the vegetables. When you mechanically continued this task, you did not speak and you noticed that he often turned around to look for Maggie to meet her eyes. Glenn was a good guy with a big heart. He would do anything to protect his people. Nevertheless, everyone looked worried. No one wanted to fight, no one wanted to go to war against the Governor. They only organized the defense, hoping it was just a waste of time. The fact is that they are ready. They would lose their lives, but they would fight. By number and armament, the victory was surely in the hands of Woodbury, but this group wouldn't be easy to fight. They were different...

"Glenn, who are we defending ourselves from?"

He looked at you and ran a hand through his hair. "I thought Rick had talked to you about it?"

You remained silent and shook your head before he spoke again: "Maybe I'm not the best person to explain the problem, but there's a city not far from here, it's name is Woodbury. The boss is called the Governor. He's in charge of everything. And one day, when I wanted to go back with Maggie, Daryl's brother forced us to go where they captured us."

You knew exactly who he was talking about...

"His name is Merle and he's been part of us in the past. He beated me, tied me together and locked me up with a Walker, asking where we took refuge, and the Governor raped Maggie-... "

Shit. This can't be true...

"...-Or maybe not, I have no idea, she assured me that he did not touch her, but you know, if you see your big love like this, without a top, in front of you, next to that asshole... Fortunately, Michonne had witnessed our capture and heard our speeches, so she heard about the prison and ran here and warned the others, they organized a rescue mission, they released us, but they captured Daryl. However, we came back to fetch them, we killed some of them but were forced to do so. The Governor attacked us last week, he came here by calling surprised us and destroyed one side of the fence, there were Walkers everywhere."

You should have pretended to be shocked and disbelieving, but there was no reason to pretend this. Because you really were. Philip had not told you about it. Did he lie to you? Your heart screamed and told you to believe the Governor's words, but your rationality knew it was not the way to go. You were in a fucked up situation... Both sides had their reasons and their mistakes, but the trust in the man who had taken you in then wavered. Would you have contributed to the extermination of this group? Your thoughts clashed, you were struck by a thousand questions and paranoia. You were angry. He could not have lied to you so shamelessly...

"I don't know what to say... It's a very complicated matter, I'm sorry, what happened..."

He put his hand on your shoulder as if you were the one he needed to comfort.

"The world has become like this... This war is all about folly, revenge and the desire for superiority. Nobody wants to give up, but show themselves invincible."

He was right, the Governor was an asshole. But he hadn't always been. Reality had changed him, and the death of his family was the end for him... You still thought you could do something. He usually listened to you, but it would have been difficult to remove him from the uncontrollable desire to eradicate Rick and his friends. Because he knew him, he wanted to make them suffer for a long time before giving them the right to take their own lives. You weren't even sure if Rick would give up the idea of leaving the hate speech unsolved. He too had been attacked.

"Have you lost many people?", you asked, hoping for a negative answer.

"Yes and no, some of the men we met in prison died, they were prisoners, but some of them were good people."

"Okay...", you replied, squatted down and wanted to continue the work. Glenn followed you without batting an eyelid. It was a sensitive topic for both of you. For a moment it seemed to you that he had opened his mouth, wanted to ask you or to say something, but he lowered his head again. After three more established tree trunks, he seemed to have changed his mind.

"Sorry if I ask you, but now that you know our story... I'd like to know yours."

You nodded that it was fair and started talking: "Before all this, I lived with my family in a quiet town, typically with terraced houses, fences and immaculate gardens. I lived there with my parents and my younger sister, my father was a sergeant and I wanted to follow in his footsteps as a young girl. He taught me a lot of fighting techniques, then the epidemic came and my mother was bitten, just as more news about violence and panic was on TV, my mother turned around and bit our dad..."

Glenn stared at you and regretted having made such a request.

"I managed to lock her in a room and ran away with my sister. We've been able to protect us pretty well for about a month... Now I'm here."

You wanted to skip the passing events. It was not necessary to go into detail. After all, it would make no sense to talk to him about the death of your little sister. It was completely intuitive... You looked at each other with the same melancholy feeling. The empathy of those times had shot up. You were all in the same boat, on the same damn boat, exposed to the storm and tidal waves. A voice interrupted your reflection on the past and involuntarily led us to turn around to understand where it came from. You saw Daryl and Carol shouting and getting angry. She tried to call him back, but the archer didn't look at her and continued his way. Glenn and you were finished by then and you were released from your job with a smile. You entered the cell block and wanted to spend a few minutes in your bed to rest, so you sat down on this uncomfortable mattress with your head in your hands. You stared at the floor, still thinking about Glenn's words. Then you noticed that a shadow came near you. Beth stood in the doorway with little Judith in her arms. The baby slept blissfully, regardless of the reality in which she was born.

"May I come in?", she asked and you gestured for her to sit down. She looked so fragile, so innocent. It was almost a disturbing element in this group. A naive angel. Her eyes full of hope, the desire to live. Although she was bored, she was happy.

"Hard day?", she asked kindly.

"A little bit, and you?"

Beth shrugged: "I'm just with Judith, I'm probably not very helpful out there..."

"You're helpful, Rick trusts you blindly.", you answered with a smile, but she didn't seem to agree.

"Do you think so? They just gave me the role of the babysitter because they think I'm useless..."

"No Beth, that's not true, I see an leader who has decided to put the care of his newborn daughter in the hands of the most suitable person, and that's you. You are very important to these people."

She smiled at you and looked down: "I hope it's true."

When you saw her clear skin and those skinny arms protecting the baby, you noticed a wound on her wrist. A straight, long and bright scar. Your face had a lost expression when she noticed it. She quickly covered herself with the sleeve of her denim jacket and blushed with embarrassment. Beth wanted to leave, but you stopped her. You loosened your wrist from the long-sleeved plaid shirt the stranger had given you and showed it to her. A deep and long scar. A painful memory.

"Don't feel alone Beth... I once gave up too..."


	8. Chapter 8

The wind danced with your hair. The barren landscape seemed endless. Fields, golden expanses of wheat thorns. There was only the road you went through to break nature. The only gray and material object. Had the engine noise not been, a deep silence would have ruled undisturbed. If you see the world like that, nobody would have thought of an apocalypse. It was a place that was untouched. An ordinary part of the landscape. You had already met people who believed in the help of the government and scientific centers. But no one had found a solution. Even the army had surrendered in rescue operations. In fact, only abandoned camps remained. Being able to sit on the leather seat reminded you of various memories of the past, of memories that you still couldn't let go. Involuntarily you tightened your grip and thought of the days you spent with your family...

"The hell yer doin'?", Daryl mumbled, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

"Nothing."

He snorted and concentrated back on the road and you felt your cheeks burn. Who knows what kind of idiotic view he has of you? From that point on, you didn't move closer to his back. Unfortunately, the only rides on a motorcycle were the ones you shared with your dad. He loved driving to the mountains and riding dirt roads. The few times he was home, he always tried to spend a lot of time with you. As a kid, you were glad to be able to hug him like that for hours. You didn't realize that you hugged Daryl too hard, so you tried to think of something else. Rick had ordered you to procure new supplies of food after seeing a shop nearby. You still didn't recognize the reason, but Daryl was quite grumpy, and that made you very nervous. As soon as you saw the building, you were glad that you could stay away from him as much as possible. You entered the supermarket, confident to find a good loot. You closed the door behind you and before plundering the place, you decided to do an inspection to free it from some living dead. You heard some guttural sounds in the distance, otherwise everything seemed to be calm. With a careful step you entered two different corridors, but parallel to each other. From one shelf to the other, you could see Daryl very well, who was busy killing some Walkers. He was hunting. In the alcohol department, however, a Walker remained unnoticed. Daryl didn't see him. Since this time Rick had given you a compound-bow from the arsenal and believed in your accuracy of shooting. You pulled out an arrow and aimed carefully. It pierced the victim completely, but another arrow pierced his head. The Walker fell to the floor between a few bottles of wine.

"That's mine.", said the archer, retrieving his own arrow. He spat on the ground and resumed the hunt. You picked up your arrow too and followed him. You killed the other Walkers without batting an eyelash and now the killing had become a common, normal action. It no longer had any effect or emotion. On the contrary, it was almost boring and annoying. When the area was safe you took a few bags and went shopping. Maggie and Glenn were on the other side in another small shop to get the last remaining cans. Of course, you would have taken only the bare necessities to fill the available bags. The next day, Michonne and Carl would go by car so they could get more. You saw Daryl with one arm in the middle of the shelf and throw the various cans on the bottom of the bag and some others to the ground.

"What the hell are you doing?", you asked: "You're too loud!"

He turned around, looked at you grimly and continued his activity. What an asshole... You took your bag, walked away and your way led you to the baby section. Judith needed milk powder and maybe you would find another useful item. In fact, you noticed some pacifiers and blankets in different colors. You even found a few diapers. After all, much better than a few dirty rags. Then you went to the hygiene department and filled the backpack with towels. After the shopping, you searched for Daryl. You just had to follow the various products that were lying on the floor. He checked a couple of bottles of alcohol and those who didn't seem to be good enough for him eventually broke a wall.

"Can you stop that shit, you've got a full bag, so let's go."

"Shut up.", he growled, not taking his eyes off the bottles. So you waited outside the supermarket for him and were angry. You decided to get involved with the few Walkers who were walking around among the houses. So you took a few arrows and practiced better aiming and centering. When you recovered from your anger, you stood near the market, waiting for the asshole to finally set off. He came out, leaned against the wall of the building and slid along it until he put his ass on the ground. He opened a bottle and sipped it.

"Now you want to drink too?", you asked annoyed.

"Fuck off.", he grunted.

You rarely lost patience, but Daryl had been bad at everyone for days. So you grabbed a big stone and threw it firmly on the back of the bottle. This broke and the contents of the bottle spread on the chest of the archer. Angrily he got up and joined you threateningly.

"The hell ya' want from me? I told ya' to fuck off!", he screamed into your face and his icy eyes just made you even more angry.

"At least you didn't look like an asshole when I met you.", you answered firmly.

"Ya' don't know shit 'bout me!", he grinned. You honestly wanted him to get angry and let go of all his hatred. You wanted him to tell the truth, which had disturbed him so much in the last few days...

"You can't stand anyone anymore, what's wrong with you, why are you acting like you're not worried about them?"

"'Cause it ain't important to me, I'm tired of their hope 'nd tired of ya' too!"

He wasn't a good liar. He was very interested in the group, but perhaps it had wronged him, probably without realizing it, because no one had the slightest idea what was going on in his head.

"You know that's not true, you love these people, you're one of them, I just have to see how you look at Rick, almost like a brother."

Damn, you thought. Merle. Merle was the problem. When Daryl heard that word, he quickly grabbed your throat. As a result, you lightly pressed the tip of a knife against his stomach to warn him.

"I've a brother 'nd Rick doesn't care, he's been gone for days 'nd this asshole won't allow me to search for him with the excuse that I serve him! Ya' know, if the Governor attacks...", he yelled. He removed his grip and dropped his arm to his sides, you did the same and moved the knife away. Then he bent his head and stared at the street. Finally he had said it, he had released the hate and let go of the anger he had in him. But the conversation continued on Daryl's side: "It's all bullshit, the truth is, nobody cares 'bout Merle, they don't care what happened to him, they take it for granted that he's back with this bastard."

This man was worried about his brother and you knew what fate he had had, but you couldn't tell him... You understood why the group wasn't particularly interested, in short, Merle was no saint and he was it who brought Maggie and Glenn to the Governor. You don't think anybody forgave him...

"If that's the case, why didn't you just look for him?"

He didn't answer you. Maybe it was hard for him to disobey Rick. You didn't know why, but he had a high regard for the sheriff and probably knew in his heart that Merle had actually gone to Woodbury. It was normal for him to suffer, but as far as you could tell, Daryl was always grumpy and moody. Probably the group had come to terms with his position... You went back into the store and came out with another bottle of the same alcohol, but Daryl shook his head. So you sat down, drank it yourself, offered it to him again and this time he nodded. You stood in silence for ten minutes, watching the destroyed neighborhood of this ruined town. He didn't apologize for the tone of his voice and the behavior he had, but he spoke to you with his eyes.

"Daryl, if Rick lets me out tomorrow, I could do an inspection in the area, maybe it'll be useless, but if it helps you then I'll do it."

You were waiting for his answer. The silence fell on you, heavier than before. But you did not complain, you were already happy that he told you his problem. You were hoping he would support your suggestion because it would also be a good excuse to return to Woodbury. You would leave at dawn and you would have to return before it got dark. As a priority, you had to change the thoughts of the Governor, hoping to find him in a good mood. You knew what you would risk, but you had to try anyway. They deserve a chance. However, you had no opinion on Michonne yet...

"He's easy to spot, has a blade instead of a hand...", he mumbled. And you took these words as a yes.

~

The darkness lustfully controlled your bodies and the surrounding nature. Even though you were not at Woodbury, you felt safe within those fences. A few days had passed and now you hoped you could see Woodbury again. You hadn't talked to Rick yet because you were busy all day, but now you were all sitting outside by the campfire. Beth sang sweet melodies that allowed each of you to lose yourselves in the swirl of your minds. Her cute voice shook you and encouraged you to reminisce. Daryl lay there with his head up. He scanned the sky above you with its sparkling stars. You wondered what he was thinking... Then you looked at Hershel. The eyes of a loving father. He looked at his two daughters and smiled contentedly. Despite everything, he was glad to still have them with him. Glenn clutched the hand of his big love Maggie, hoping he would never lose her, while Carl leafed through comics. You still couldn't say that you didn't feel like a stranger in their presence, but you didn't mind being with this group. Michonne as well, also for her these people were new friends. Except that she had nothing to hide, unlike you. You were an enemy... Carol now looked at the archer sadly. She suffered just as much as he did. Rick, with one hand, his arm resting on his knee, stroked thoughtfully through his beard. When the song ended, everyone exchanged a smile. Hershel got up and you all emulated him because it was time to go to bed. Beth approached slowly and whispered something in your ear.

"Thank you.", she said, and everyone went to their cells except Rick, who was still sitting in the grass. You walked up to him, hoping the sheriff would talk to you.

"Thank you for thinking about Judith, too.", he said quietly, while you were smiling at him, meaning to say that there was no need to thank you, and he continued: "I wonder sometimes when I go around, thinking about this war, whether the Governor does the same. How long will we have to wait? I mean, I'm not worried about my life, but I'm afraid someone will definitely get hurt or die. This war is useless... But basically it's understandable because we killed some of his men. I would act the same... Only I can't stand this waiting."

"Do you think there is a possibility of surrender?"

He frowned: "No, this man has too much pride, there would never be an agreement, he will not be satisfied until he has eradicated us all."

"You know him well, right?", you asked.

"I've only seen him twice so far."

"And that was enough for you to understand him?", you asked again.

"Yes, I could see it."

With that, you understood why he was so certain of a battle. As much as Philip was a madman in their eyes, Rick knew he would do the same in his place. For example, if someone had killed Carl or Glenn, he would have slaughtered them. From what he told you the first day, if you had injured someone, he would have killed you immediately. He would do anything to keep his group intact. He had decided to arm himself instead of running away, but you didn't know if it was the right decision... You had to tell him about your way to Woodbury, find a credible excuse, but you preferred something simple, something clear and uncomplicated to say, without which he would have to worry. Now that he was in a reflexive state, not too worried and nervous, it would have been the right moment, besides, he seemed tired, so he probably wouldn't have argued too long. You waited a bit before you finished the flow of his thoughts.

"Rick, listen... Tomorrow morning I'll go out and get back before sunset, I want to be alone for a bit."

He rubbed his neck annoyed: "You don't ask me for permission?", he replied.

"No, but I tell you."

You got up, went to the cells and let him return to his thoughts. You were sorry that you couldn't help him. You too had your crises and you didn't have the slightest idea how to get away. You hated the situation in which you had driven yourself. If you had done it, as Philip had suggested, you would all have killed in cold blood. But now you had grown fond of these people, you knew them... How could you kill them without telling them? The guilt would have devoured you. When you opened the door, you saw a small flame in the corner of the building, which immediately disappeared leaving room for a red dot. A cigarette. Surprised by the curiosity of finding out who the smoker was, you reached the weak heat source. You weren't really surprised to find Daryl.

"What did he tell ya'?", he asked ambitiously.

"I didn't ask for permission."

He laughed: "What really drives ya' out? I ain't an idiot. Ya' don't do it for my brother."

"I have to go and do something... Since I'm on the road, I take advantage of it."

He didn't ask you what you wanted to do and he knew very well that you wouldn't give him an answer. But he still gave you a cigarette.

"Do ya' want?"

You have accepted. He tried to light the lighter but it was already empty. He mumbled something and busied himself with it... You pulled the zipper on your leather jacket and pulled out the zippo you had stolen from the corpse in the tent. Daryl suddenly grabbed it and surprised you. He turned it between his fingers, searching for a moonbeam that would allow him to see the various cuts on its surface.

"What's written on it?", he asked.

"FUCK YOU."

He looked at you in amusement and studied you behind the brown strands that covered part of his face. This man did something to you and you didn't know if it was because of his particular looks or simply because of his nature. Tired of waiting, you took it with a quick movement from his hand. It still contained gas. You took a deep breath and let the smoke find its way into your lungs. Daryl looked at you silently. After all, he wasn't angry anymore...


	9. Chapter 9

The icy morning air hit you and forced you to wear warmer clothes. The peachy sun was still halfway up in the sky with a few clouds in the distance. You loaded the rucksack and the travel bag, went to the gates and were anxious to go the long way. The others were still asleep and that allowed you to avoid goodbyes and explanations. Only Rick and Daryl knew about your departure. A small flock of birds flew over the prison and interrupted the monotony of these guttural sounds: A slight flapping of wings. You felt some tension in the idea of having to retune Philip, but you hoped to find him in a good mood, otherwise it would be very annoying if you tried to distract him from the hatred that consumed him. In the courtyard you saw a pickaxe rise into the sky, which immediately hit the ground. And so on, hit by hit. The man had to find work to distract because it was impossible for him to sit quietly in the corner. Like a hurricane... You walked slowly and looked at your shoes. You changed, became weak but didn't want to. The sheriff framed you with his eyes as he watched you from under his curly, sweaty streaks hanging from his forehead.

"You didn't sleep, did you?", you asked in a low voice, as if you didn't want to disturb anyone or anything, and he answered without interrupting his actions: "I had a few things to do... In short, I couldn't fall asleep."

And you both knew the reason.

"Everything will be fine, things will go smoothly.", you said sadly.

He gave up his grip, wiping his wet palms on his shirt and approaching: "Why are you looking at me like this, with those sad eyes, as if I have to feel guilty?", he replied grumpily and pissed, but still with a certain attitude.

You were not ready to answer, he had surprised you with these words. So he picked up the pickaxe again, resumed his role as a farmer and invited you to leave. Yes, you were sad... Yes, you felt guilty... And he did not know why... Nothing had happened yet, but you knew very well that something would happen soon. The problem was that you no longer intend to kill them or see them die. You went through the forest, thinking back to the scene. You kept seeing the sheriff's face. His attitude, his accusing eyes... You didn't want to destroy the home they had created. He was a father, a friend, a leader. He had responsibility and wasn't afraid of danger. He fought for the safety of all. You were convinced that he was also forced to perform actions that he would never have done in the previous reality. Therefore, he also fought with himself, with his own conscience. It was hard to leave the past behind and focus only on the present and break all the old rules. Humans have the ability to adapt, but in this case it wasn't as easy as it was theorized. Impossible not to collide with those who they once were. You went faster, eager for a hug and reassuring words. After all, you had survived for months alone, had returned home and immediately you went to a crazy and pointless mission. All your fault of course... So you earned respect, demanded understanding and complicity from someone. Friendship, true friendship. Like the one that held the group in Block C together... In the middle of the street, a blockade did not allow you to get ahead. A herd of Walkers was on its way to the prison... For a moment you thought of going back, passing a side street to warn them. But immediately you changed your mind that they could handle it alone, as they always had. So you went away from the hungry herd and took another path, though it was longer. Herds of Walkers had the tendency to emigrate. Before they devoured everything they craved, and when they cleared the area, they would travel... A very simple lifestyle. On the way you were forced to kill some of them. Always bored with the same kind of weapon, it was right to train with the others. After a time that seemed like hours, you slowly arrived at your destination. To your bad luck, it was again Martinez, who greeted you.

"Y/N, finally you are here, it's more than necessary! You should have been here for several days!", the soldier from Woodbury reminded you.

"Well, but I couldn't do what I wanted."

He laughed at you: "Maybe you just can't make it and you're not suitable.", he answered but you ignored him.

"If I were you, I'd go to the boss right away. He found a tank."

You turned around and hoped he was joking, but he was too upset to talk nonsense. Philip wanted to attack. He had decided and got ready. You hastily ignored the other residents who saw you running and went into the Governor's house. You took a long step up the stairs and collided with Milton. He muttered something, but you didn't understand.

"A tank, are you fucking crazy?"

Philip came to you with open arms. 

"You're late Y/N, but I'm glad you're alright."

You broke away from his embrace angrily: "Why the hell did you change your mind? We had a plan to hold on!"

He took a step back and became serious: "I see that the contact with them has changed you, I was afraid for your safety and you're treating me like this?"

You've tried to take a relaxed stance. He put his hands back on your arms. 

"Tell me what it was like to be there for a week.", he smiled wickedly.

"I don't give you a damn information, you have a tank, it's not a strategic attack anymore!"

"It serves to scare them, so that if someone escapes us, he will be forced to seek refuge in the vegetation, a certain death, if it hadn't been necessary, I would never have sent you to those people. But what you have discovered in the structure will help us."

The Governor wanted to capture them, blocking any escape. Men inside and outside. Then he took you by the hips and approached your body. His fingers pressed against the wound Daryl's arrow had caused. He noticed your expression and lifted your shirt.

"What did they do to you?", he asked, changing his expression.

"Nothing, it was an accident."

But he knelt down to examine the injury better.

"An accident, huh?", he murmured gravely.

"Are you telling me that an arrow ACCIDENTALLY hit you?"

You grabbed his shoulders and forced him to get up again. "It was an accident, I have no reason to lie to you.", you sighed.

"You're angry and I don't understand why. When this war started, you wanted to exterminate them and now you have a tank, there's something that you're hiding from me."

He came so close to your face with his face that you got scared and he chuckled to himself.

"Do not tell me you changed your mind."

Although he seemed calm, this man was able to attack you. You had no time to argue, grabbed the lamp on the desk and it crashed to the floor.

"Fuck, how dare you come here to call me crazy because of a tank, you ugly bitch! A pack of those killers, killed my daughter, they killed Penny, and Haley! Does it mean anything to you?", he burst out, raging: "You went there with a task: Get the most useful information, go there to help us kill them, and I can't believe it, you really don't realize you're fooled by that bunch of assholes!"

You looked at him motionless. He whirled with his hands. The veins on his neck became clearer. He would explode soon. You tried to get closer, but he pushed you away.

"Governor, please don't, we can talk about it in peace."

He interrupted you and laughed: "Sure, let's talk quietly, there's no reason why you react that way, right?"

"Don't twist my words!", you replied.

"No Y/N, don't fuck with me! It's impossible for you to change that in a few days. You hate them! You haven't seen them before, and you already hated them for their actions! Tell me why, give me a reasonable explanation of what happened to you.", he said, inviting me to a 'quiet' dialogue.

The situation was critical, you couldn't think anymore. Philip had his reasons... In short, you didn't want them to die and you didn't want to put them against Philip, but the trouble that towered over him was a serious thing.

"Philip, I do not think they are saints and you both are to blame for this situation and you know it, they will not show up here and kill everyone, you could talk to Rick and find a reasonable agreement."

"You're so naive, these people say they're not going to attack us, they've done it before, it wouldn't be a problem for them again.", he said, moving his head horizontally.

"It doesn't make sense to kill these people."

"What should I do? Ask Rick for permission to kill that bitch with her sword, would you want that?"

You did not answer. There was no solution to this conflict. Philip would never have accepted a compromise. Maybe Rick, but you were not sure. Everything seemed so damn wrong. You dropped exhausted into a chair. The Governor paced up and down the room, following an imaginary straight line.

"Y/N... What should I do with you?", he repeated several times.

You absolutely had to end the discussion and go. He started to go crazy. In those moments it was always better to stay away from him as much as possible. You were not safe there. Then he approached the desk, tapped the wood surface, and looked at you thoughtfully. You wanted to get up, but suddenly he pointed his gun at you. You automatically did the same. You stood still, both with outstretched arms and weapons in your hands.

"I never thought we would come to that point.", he said with a smile. You nodded. Philip threatened you and you never imagined it that way. You owed him a lot, he had saved you... He had found you after the death of your sister. He was the boss and you were a good soldier for Woodbury. You didn't ask any questions, you just did it. Still there was always something dark behind this facade, something you pretended not to see. You were aware of that, but you did not accept it. And now you were standing there, in front of the man who had saved you, ready to shoot when needed. He tested you... Suddenly he put the gun in a drawer and surprised you. He relaxed again. Although he had calmed down and looked really calm, you couldn't be sure that there would be no other neurotic attacks. He came towards you, but you had no time to retreat when he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you hard against the wall. His hand slowly increased the strength of the handle and you couldn't breathe. So you put your arms against his chest to keep him away, but the Governor just squeezed harder.

"Which side do you belong to?", he whispered angrily.

"Philip, please...", you said in a weak and subdued voice.

"I asked you a question, which side do you belong to?", he shouted, gritting his teeth. A hoarse sound was produced by your squashed vocal cords: "Yours..."

You felt the aching muscles. Even the smallest movement caused terrible pain. You never thought he would hurt you. After all, you hadn't cheated on him, only made some aspects of the situation clearer. His behavior, his actions, his words, it was a lesson... He punished you. You looked in the bathroom mirror, and saw a clearly recognizable strangulation. A large violet stain covered part of the cheekbone and temple when he hit you again before you left. Your lower lip was torn. Philip was a monster and you understood it too late. He had arranged to meet you in the morning to learn about the prison and its organization. You had sworn to be on his side, but that did not allow you to avoid his brutal rage. He wasn't stupid, he had already worked out the fact that you would lie the next day and tell the wrong details. You had to go back to the prison and tell Rick everything. And it was clear that you would die soon. Would Rick have believed you at all? Even if there was a chance the group would choose not to kill you, they would not have accepted you anyway. None of them would have trusted you anymore and therefore you would be alone again. What was important to you was that the others knew they needed to prepare for the fight. The rest was futile... You took your things and reached the street in the middle of the night. You thought it was dangerous to cross that long way walking. You.were in danger of getting lost and not having a good view anyway. It would have been difficult to escape if you ran into a bunch of Walkers. You absolutely needed a car... Besides the fact that it was a much faster vehicle, it also had lights. But you could not steal a car in Woodbury. Luckily there were still some in good condition outside. You took a can of gasoline, slipped out, and climbed over the gates to the south, which weren't guarded. You checked the different cars and decided to take a pickup. It took a while for the engine to roar, but finally it started. You looked at the high gates from the rearview mirror and you knew you would never see them again. It was a farewell. You should have returned before sunset, but here you were, alone, uncertain of your future, on the asphalt road. Thousands of questions crowded in your head. How could you explain to them that you were a spy? How would you have convinced them that what you said was the truth? Why the hell did you return to Woodbury? Philip had managed in a few hours to hurt you as a human being between abuse and verbal violence. You were tired, tired of everything. From the epidemic, from people, from everyday life. You just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

"It's your fault.", he had told you: "It's your fault that your sister is dead. You are incompetent. She trusted you and trust kills you. You trust that man, so you will die!"

And though the words were dictated by the heat of the moment, by contempt and anger, you knew he was right, it was your fault, the death of your sister, your father, of Haley and the group, and instead of getting the Governor to change his mind, you just made things worse. You hit some Walkers on your way but it didn't bother you to dodge the bastards who were walking along your path. You just drove over them in anger, like insects falling on the windshield, covering them with their rotten matter. Suddenly you realized that your hands were shaking. You were excited and nervous... You wanted to calm down, but you couldn't. You lit the prison yard with the lights and saw Rick hurry to the gate mechanism. When it was closed, you got out of the car, covered part of your face with your hair and kept your head down. You did not want him to notice the injuries, but he bombarded you with questions and allegations: "Where the hell have you been? You said you were back at sunset. And where did you get this car from?"

He didn't give you time to answer, pointed the flashlight at you and his expression changed. His voice became calmer, but still firm. "What happened?"

"It was just an accident."

That wasn't the time to talk to him alone. But he did not believe you anyway.

"Do you really think that I believe you? Don't make fun of me Y/N...", he said, grabbing you and accepting calmer tones in his voice. "I implore you."

You released yourself from his grip. But your words got tangled and formed a knot in your throat. You wanted to say something to him, but you were blocked by yourself. He allowed you to go into the building with him. When he put an arm around you, he saw more bruises on your wrist. At that moment he let go. You didn't know what he had thought, but he let you go. To say that you were not in a crisis would be euphemism. You had resisted to this point and shed no tears yet. Not because of the violence and words from the Governor, but from Rick's eyes, you suddenly collapsed... This was the man whose son you had safed, the same man you trusted. And now it was the man you had deceived. On the one hand, you were relieved that it was night, just as you would have avoided some questions in the beginning, at least for a few hours, just enough time to respond. Suddenly a female voice caught you, making you wince. As you entered the bathroom, you refreshed your face, taking care not to press on the painful areas. The cheekbone was already very swollen.

"Y/N... Are you all right?"

You did not turn around and tried to be indifferent. But one hand rested on your back and implored you to look at the woman. It was Carol. You weren't too surprised to see her lovely expression turn into an almost frightened face when she saw you. And you said the first stupid words that had been presented to your brain as an excuse: "I fell down, it's just ridiculous." You showed her a smile, hopefully that she would leave you alone or that she understood that you wanted to stay alone. But determined and promptly you took off your shirt and showed her all the other injuries... She said nothing. She just looked at you silently, as if she wanted to read you, to understand something in your eyes. Then Carol crossed her arms and leaned against the sink. "I know this kind of injury very well, from my ex-husband Ed..."

She knew that at least you wouldn't want to speak at the moment. So she started with a story, the story of her past. You repeated to yourself that you should confess it, you couldn't hide it anymore...

"Where-...", she asked, but her question remained unfinished and wavered in the air.

"No Carol, nobody touched me... Not in that sense."

"Who did such a terrible thing to you?", she asked again, taking your hands. She knew what it meant to be beaten.

"Philip...", you said: "But you know him as the Governor..."


	10. Chapter 10

A metallic noise collided against the walls, echoing in the confines of the room. The bathroom door had closed, driven by muscular arms. Rick went furious with a stern look in your direction. He grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and approached you. Carol started blocking him, but failed. The sheriff must have overheard the conversation. He had followed you, had reached you, perhaps to tell you something, but when he saw you with the woman, he had preferred to hear your conversation first. Carol had stopped motionless, but you were sure to die. Rick would have made you talk and then he would have killed you. These cold and piercing eyes...

"How do you know his name?", he asked, taking a deep breath.

"I know him, I know this man..."

The grip was strengthened and urged you to continue: "Rick, I worked for him... When I showed up here, it was just to gather information... Woodbury needed to know before he organized the attack... But instead of going back and to tell all, I admonished Philip to leave you alone... He lied to me, I was not there when you attacked the city to get back your companions, because I was on a mission for months... What I knew about you, was totally wrong, please believe me, it's the truth!", you explained desperately. He released his grip and threw you to the ground with full force. He screamed, repeating the word 'shit' several times, and in the meantime he held his head and pressed against his temples. Carol looked at you with a mixture of hate and gratitude. She had understood that you told the truth, you had no reason to lie. Of course, she was not one hundred percent sure, but she despised you anyway for you fraudulent figure... The group had welcomed you, all in all, they had treated you very well. Rick leaned against a wall, his hands closing behind his neck. He made these repetitive movements and bobbed back and forth unconsciously. Carol did not seem to be surprised... Rick had probably reacted that way many times, but you couldn't blame him.

"I trusted you, damnit! I trusted you...", the sheriff murmured, while Carol crouched beside you with a certain contempt.

"He abused you for that?", she asked and you nodded.

"Fuck off! Get the hell away from us!", Rick shouted and came back to you furiously. Carol stopped the sheriff and prevented him from reaching you again.

"Rick! Rick, listen to me, there's no point in throwing her out now! Y/N didn't share amy information with the Governor, he'll attack anyway. We need to get ready.", she said, and he turned away from her.

"To end this war, it means the certain death for us! How can you believe her?"

You got up cautiously and Rick immediately pulled his gun out of the holster, but Carol started talking again: "Y/N really tried to change that man's opinion, I'm sure. But I do not know anything about the rest..."

"I don't demand protection from you, and I'm aware of the seriousness of the context, Rick. But I came back to warn you, they have a tank, and they'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

The woman held in disbelief and frightened her hands over her mouth. The sheriff stepped forward, so much so that he pressed the barrel of the now loaded weapon on your forehead.

"I do not believe that even one true word comes out of your damn mouth!", he replied with a mocking smile.

He felt stupid because he let you enter. He felt unable to protect his family. He had promised himself that nothing bad would happen to them, and instead he was here, stunned and poisoned by resentment. Ready to shoot you... But he knew the wounds you were wearing were a tangible sign of the Governor's unstable madness. If you were still working for him, why should he abuse you? His eyebrows lifted a little as if he wanted to read your mind.

"Rick, if you don't trust me, do it, kill me now, right here."

Carol looked at you desperately. You stared at each other. Another voice rose in the room, forcing your eyes to look away.

"The hell 's happenin' here!", Daryl shouted questioningly, but when he saw your injuries that showed the scene in front of him, he stopped. Rick and the archer exchanged long speeches through their crystalline eyes, then he went to you and pointed his crossbow at you. It was getting worse... You couldn't say for sure what he was thinking, but surely it wasn't hard to guess that you had become a possible enemy for him as well.

"What 're yer intentions?", Daryl asked the sheriff but he did not answer. It was replaced by the woman, who had recovered from the shock and returned determined and combative.

"It would be a mistake to kill her now Rick, we need her... She will provide us with useful information!"

"Don't you understand Carol? Woodbury has more people than us, they're better armed and even in possession of a tank!", he replied, and Daryl was almost pale.

"What?", he asked, looking at you: "Did ya' know 'bout that?"

"No!", you replied quickly, hoping they recognized honesty in your eyes.

Rick lowered his weapon and the archer did the same. He wasn't calm at all and had made a decision in his mind.

"Listen to me, Y/N. I will not kill you, at least not yet. I will not say thank you for coming back or for trying to talk to the Governor. Now you work for me, do you understand that?"

There was no need for you to reply, it was obvious that you were glad not to die.

"When the Governor attacks... What will you do?", he asked.

"I'll kill him.", you replied dryly.

"If something should happen... If we were separated or drowned in chaos... Where are you safe?"

"With you.", you answered again.

"You know the rules, we'll start from the beginning, again..."

They approached the door and whispered together. Rick and Carol went to the others to inform them while Daryl continued to guard you. He sat with momentum on a sink and put the crossbow on his legs. It wasn't the time to talk to him about Merle, but you knew it would never happen in the end anyway. And since you had already confessed everything, only this painful detail remained. If you stayed longer and kept it secret for a long time, it would only have been counterproductive. You watched each other as if you both wanted to say something. He was tense, but not too much... The news of the Governor's attack hadn't surprised him, because everyone knew more or less that this day would come. And he wasn't even mad at you or at least he didn't show it. He seemed more worried about your physical condition and continued to stare at your face and all the wounds and injuries.

"The Governor did this to ya'?", he suddenly asked, pointing his index finger at you, ignoring some of the details of the current situation.

"Yes."

He tried to reassemble the parts, the various fragments of the dialogue between Rick and you. He then understood that the wounds had been caused by your intervention in their favor. And maybe he was even sorry... It was hard to interpret Daryl. His thoughts were revealed only when he was angry.

"Didn't ya' kick him in the ass?"

You shook your head with a smile to hide the tears in your eyes. You didn't want to talk about it and fortunately he understood it. Daryl waited for Rick to return, with some information on the possible management of the future problem. You didn't know when it would be possible to regain the opportunity to be a part of his family... Without moving, you stood with your feet in the middle of the lines of a tile and said: "Daryl I -..."

"Daryl!", the voice of the sheriff suddenly came in. He left the room and reached his friend at the entrance, you had missed an opportunity. They both left and left you alone, these minutes seemed endless, you felt like shit. Now you were trapped in a mess, but you were glad that you met Rick and his people and you liked them, both as a human being and as a companion.

United. Faithful. Strong.

The sheriff had managed to build a good structure. They were like clockwork, each one of them unique and special, an indispensable mechanism for the proper functioning of the entire organism. It bothered you not to know their intentions, not to be able to hear their reflections. You had built a subtle bond with each member, but now everything was broken, you had cheated on them, that was the point... If there is no trust, the group is not connected.

While Rick puzzled himself to find a good plan, any other thing would be inefficient. You would all have been killed or at least a good part of you. You did not know what to hope for. Dying or surviving in the open field in the war, then forced to suffer their contempt? If you were left unscathed by any miracle, you would have chosen a lonely adventure. You would have taken different paths. One day you would have found a place... A new home.

Rick appeared at the door and made a sign to follow him. You walked down the corridors. The same corridors where the sheriff had carried you in your arms and feared for your life... As you entered the cell tract, you found yourself in front of a table surrounded by Glenn, Daryl, Hershel and two free chairs. You sat down. Everything was quiet... To be honest, you had counted on terrible words, contradictions and anger. But Hershel and Glenn looked at you without saying anything. Glenn was discouraged and convinced of a defeat. Hershel beamed with hope instead. But they still stared at you as if they were trying to decipher you. Like a puzzle...

"We have a few hours to decide how we will act.", Rick confirmed.

"There's nothin' to decide, we or 'em, 'nd I won't lose.", Daryl snorted.

"We have to find tactical arrangements to position ourselves. They will enter by breaking the gates and using the tank to destroy the prison. Therefore, we can take advantage of increased passages. We have already provided shields for the bullets. We have to have control over the whole area. Some snipers are positioned on the two towers. We have little ammo, so we have to shoot precisely. We must not waste anything.", Glenn said, gesturing, and Rick nodded, forcing his hand into a fist, his leg moving quickly, affected by nervousness.

"Maggie and Carol will be on the towers, they can aim well, but on the raised structures, Carl and Hershel. On the ground, I want to see the most skilled and capable of us. Beth has to be safe with Judith.", the Sheriff replied.

But Hershel was worried. He was afraid for his daughters. Finding a safe place was rather difficult, almost impossible.

"Don't forget the Walkers. With that noise we'll turn 'em in our direction anyway.", Daryl pointed out.

"It will be a problem for both groups. Maybe the Walkers will help us.", Hershel said, and Rick seemed to agree.

"Considering that the Governor will destroy the fences, the Walkers and his men will enter the forecourt and we will already be positioned in the designated areas, certainly only for a short time, but we could benefit from it. We have to be able to reduce the number of opponents, then when the others have destroyed the second fence... There we stand face to face."

Only the strongest would have won. It would have been pointless to have a strategy. Man against man, weapon against weapon. Who pulls the trigger first, prolongs his life by a few minutes... You would have arranged a number of different weapons and ammunition, so you could easily deliver them while maintaining the original disposition. Shooting around wildly with a light machinegun would have been a common but completely wrong idea, since you had very little ammunition, so you had to calibrate every single shot. Killing with intelligence... Don't panic... You understood why they hadn't considered the escape proposal, as this would have been only a temporary solution.

Shortly thereafter, everyone turned in your direction and stared at you.

"Tell us even the most insignificant detail: How many will it be. How they will move. What weapons they have. How the Governor thinks. I demand everything from you to know!", Rick ordered: "And then we go over to the facts."

The explanation didn't last long. You tried to be consistent and precise. Not that there was much to talk about Philip's thoughts... Although it was still dark, you moved quickly through the prison area and prepared everything as planned. Nobody complained about the sheriff's decisions, although Maggie would have preferred to take part in the direct confrontation. You worked with your head down, trying to avoid the looks of others. In short, even their situation was not optimal. They had to hate you for lying, but they were grateful that you had warned them. It was very contradictory thoughts... The fact is that you did not talk to each other as if you had decided to reluctantly collaborate. There was no room to discuss. It did not matter if you were a friend, cheater, or anything else. Importantly, they had more hands that could kill. You had decided to prepare the various positions immediately because you feared that the Governor, who was aware of your escape, could have come in advance because he thought he would surprise you then. You climbed on a tower and filled it up with the necessary materials. On the floor lay a mattress and a few backpacks. Glenn and Maggie have often spent time here together. You noticed a picture on a blanket, on which Maggie is sleeping, and smiled spontaneously. She was beautiful. Shortly thereafter you went downstairs and helped Michonne to place wooden boards in various places so that they could serve as protection. If you hadn't been a pessimist and looked around, you would have sworn you could win it. Rick kept an eye on you, more than needed. He had also freed you from the weapons again. And even if you had been in possession, you certainly didn't mean to do shit with them... You not only tried to stay alive, but you had done everything you could to help them. Everyone seemed very confused, running from one side to the other. You moved between them and stayed calm. You had to carry one of the ammo boxes near the entrance to Block C, so you put a flashlight in your mouth and lifted that damn thing up. You made big steps so that you would arrive first, but halfway Daryl stopped you.

"I'll take care of it...", he said and pulled the box out of your hands. You wanted to answer, but only an incomprehensible groan came out of your mouth because of the flashlight. He looked at you impassively, went back and you took the box back into your hands. You would have liked to apologize to each of them, but you had to prove it with actions, not words. It would take a while...

"You don't have to worry...", whispered Hershel suddenly.

"They all seem busy...", you just answered. In fact, you did not have the slightest idea of what the others were doing, as you only paid attention to the work. You needed to do to avoid any dialogue. Hershel patted your shoulder and wanted to go.

"Hershel..."

"Yes?", the man asked and turned around.

"Aren't you angry?"

He bowed his head. "Why should I be angry?", he asked, laughing.

"For what I did."

"Then tell me, what did you do?"

"I lied to you...", you replied with your head down.

Hershel looked at you and didn't take the smile off his face.

"But you were honest."

You didn't understand what exactly he was aiming for, it seemed to you like a rather strange conversation. Then he left and let you alone. You shook your head in disbelief. He could not have said that, no one would have seen you the way he did. Every other person would have killed you. The man was too friendly and far surpassed the goodness that could be expected in these days. You focused again on the beam generated by the light you had at your disposal and reached the rest of the group in the prison. Everyone was in his cell, but nobody would go to sleep. Fear and anger didn't spare you... It took about several hours at dawn, peace would have made little sense. Rick hugged his daughter, who grabbed his father's forefinger. He looked at her with sad eyes and regretted that he had put her in such a world, but at the same time stared at her with love, glad that she had survived, as Lori had wished. To embrace her was to feel the beloved woman still at his side. Everyone had lost someone and even if you had partially overcome their death, you were afraid of suffering another loss. It may seem strange, but you would not have liked it if one of them would die. You can't say that you've built strong relationships, but you still liked those people, though you didn't know why. You had never felt comfortable with other groups after only a few days... When you didn't know them, you hated them. Then you learned to relate to them and to understand the true dynamics of what triggered the war. But Michonne was the only topic that you hadn't completely deciphered...

And Daryl? He sat in a cell and was busy checking his arrows. No one spoke, all sat in their own silence, while your thoughts traveled through countless questions and phobias...


	11. Chapter 11

Y/N's P.O.V.:

It was up to you to be patient and to wait. You would rather have been in a different place or would rather have become a Walker. Zero worries, only irreparable hunger. It would have been easier. The burning sun illuminated the area, which was supposed to be the role of a stage. You were the actors who were to give life to an exciting show. At the end of the show, there would have been no applause, bouquets or compliments, just corpses... You mourned for the compound-bow that Rick had given you in the hope that this object would allow you the fate imposed extend or not. Everyone was at their posts, ready to face a collision that could have been easily avoided. It was unnecessary to remember the thoughts of who you were in the past. You had developed further... Rick shrugged, trying to loosen his muscle tension. His eyes were fixed on the fence, eager to see the footsteps of the enemy in the vegetation. Several dozen were visible, but after the first shot many more came when the first bullet hit the ground. The small clock with the black obsidian dial, which you had tied to your wrist, marked the time. You stood in front of one of the wooden planks that you had set up with Michonne, which would have been useful for the machine guns. Potential shelters, though not very strong... Daryl now had a shotgun. A nice weapon. The others occasionally looked at each other and wondered what it would be like to wait there, but no one had the courage to question the sheriff and they respected his will. Nothing would have made the difference... Hershel, who had taken a seat next to Carl, looked over his shoulder and looked at the cell block. Beth was inside to protect the little ass kicker, a nickname the archer had given her. You had left her ammunition and a backpack full of supplies so that if the situation went badly, she would have escaped from the battlefield and secured the survival of both for at least a few days. What sounded like a distant humming came closer and closer. They came... Your figures became rigid, almost statuesque. Two jeeps and other cars lined up at the gate, then the Governor emerged from the dense flora of the forest. The men on horseback and on foot took care of the Walkers that crowded against the fences and when the ground was clear of them, Philip came down and put his arms in his side while Rick took a few steps forward.

"It seems to me like a déjà vu!", said the leader of Woodbury. The men next to him laughed, but Rick stayed in place.

"As soon as your ass rots on this ground!", Rick replied. Daryl looked at the sheriff as if he had not expected such an answer. Normally, Rick also remained diplomatic in difficult situations. But Philip didn't care about the threat and suddenly aimed at you.

"I'm surprised to see you alive! Didn't those idiots find out what kind of person you are?"

You didn't respond to his provocation and kept the barrel of the gun straight to aim at his chest.

"Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?", Rick growled.

"Just because I know it, I'm sure I'll win!"

"Is this what you want?", Rick said pointing to a girl with a ponytail: "Look, I fought him before. And after, we took in his old friends. They've become leaders in what we have here. Now you put down your weapons, walk through those gates... You're one of us. We let go of all of it, and nobody dies. Everyone who's alive right now. Everyone who's made it this far. We've all done the worst kinds of things just to stay alive. But we can still come back. We're not too far gone. We get to come back. I know... We all can change.", Rick now said to the entire group.

"Liar!", the Governor answered, and suddenly a bullet pierced Carol's shoulder, which immediately fell to the ground. As a result, Maggie did the same, fearing that she would be hit as well. Some snipers were hiding in the forest. The moment you were all seeking protection, the tank started with its roar, destroying the massive iron gate. They moved forward and made their way to the yard. A rain, indeed, a thunderstorm hit the prison. The first unloading of a machine gun was fired on you all, with the intention to scare you and destroy part of the planned accommodation. In the meantime, a bus was moving at great speed and broke through the fence. A man came down hastily, opened the bus doors and reached his companions. The machine guns fell silent and made them protagonists of the shattering complaints. A herd of Walkers entered the open field and approached your direction. The two women peered out of the towers and fired at both the Walkers closest to you and the soldiers. Hershel and Carl, who were on the mezzanine, had the opportunity to cover you. The four of you on the ground, still sitting by the protective shields, jumped up. You fired and smashed some of the car's windshields, then picked up a crowbar and prepared to smash a few skulls. The infiltration of the Walkers proved to be effective, but also counterproductive. These were attracted not only by your smell, but also by the soldiers, who also aroused their interest.

"Go through the fence with your cars! Get your guns, we go in! Kill them all!", the Governor screamed.

The cars broke the fences one after another. In no time the enemies had conquered your soil and had penetrated into the area beyond the yard. If by that time the distance in your favor would have been beneficial and let you escape some bullets, it was no longer possible. The tank fired again and hit the building. A strong heat was radiating and the ground started to shake. The positions Rick had designed disappeared within seconds. Each of you took logically different directions to ensure good protection and an excellent view. You had to flee, both the Walkers and the soldiers who were in large numbers compared to you. You saw Carol and Maggie leave the towers and fight. Some discharges hit the wall that served as a cover. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Shumpert was moving forward, so you loaded the gun, fired at him, and ran behind one of your cars to protect yourself. Without hesitation, you shot him and the bullet pierced his head. When you ran, you saw a hand grenade close enough to your feet, but you immediately kicked it away and threw yourself behind the car. You had no time to look around much, took a deep breath and leaned forward and ran to another car. You tried desperately to see Philip, you were afraid to find him in front of you, but were suddenly prevented by a bullet in your thigh. You dragged yourself behind a protective shield reinforced with wooden planks. Your leg was already soaked in blood but despite the extreme pain, you tried to look between the tables you had placed to see if a soldier was around or a sniper. And when you saw Martinez, one hand grabbed you, pushed you down and one knee rested on your back.

"Down!", Daryl shouted and Martinez continued to fire furiously on you until the gun was empty, forcing him to seek refuge. The archer dropped the shotgun after he had used up the ammunition and took an AK.

"Yer wounded?", he asked and loaded the weapon.

"They shot me in the leg, nothing serious.", you replied and he took a knife and cut a hole in your pants.

"Gotta check if the projectile 's still 'nside."

You stopped him because there was no time to get medical treatment. Daryl himself was not sure... You squatted on the walls and fired at every enemy you saw. A soldier who came too close to you both was immediately killed by Daryl as he jumped out and slammed the blade into his throat. He took the grenades from him and ran to the tank. Distracted from the scene, you didn't notice Martinez standing next to you and he hit you on the back of the head with the end of his gun. He sat down on you and punched your face. But you had time to pull out your knife, which you immediately sunk into his shoulder. He screamed in pain and let go and you used that to hit him in the face with full force and he fell aside.

"You damn bitch!", he shouted.

With pain, you got up and clung to your healthy leg. You took out your revolver and fired and Martinez was dead immediately... The situation was chaotic. Shots. Screams. Walkers. It was hard to concentrate. Daryl killed another enemy by shooting him in the chest and was beside the tank when it fired again and destroyed another part of the block. Beth had to escape, but there was a likelihood that some debris had blocked the passage or a corridor. The archer jumped up and slipped the grenade into the tube of that metallic monster. Maggie and Carol hid behind a wall, now without ammunition. So you threw your gun and ammunition to them and only held your knife in my hand. Armed only for close combat, you hurried to the entrance of the block when you saw Hershel go in. He had thought of his daughter... Now that the tank was out of service, it would be safer in the block. You approached Michonne, who was bleeding above her eyebrow.

"Did you see where the piece of shit went?", she asked breathlessly: "He has my sword!"

"No.", you replied curtly. You fired on a soldier who was advancing slowly in search of the Governor. He couldn't have gotten far. You approached Glenn, but noticed a tall man, along with a thin girl. They were on the Governor's side, but you had never seen them in Woodbury before.

"Who the hell is that?", you asked, pointing to them.

"Tyreese and Sasha. Rick did not accept them and the Governor took them in. I don't know what's going on.", Glenn replied. Rick, dirty with blood and mud, made his way exhausted and staggered a bit. Michonne asked him if he had seen Philip, but he too had lost sight of him in battle. Some shots forced you all to split again, committing you to eliminate multiple enemies. Rick ran to the prison block. But you all already knew: You couldn't stay there anymore, it was not safe anymore. You had to flee, but the soldiers fired over and over again and didn't care about the danger behind them. Suddenly a heartbreaking cry went up into the sky. Despite the shots, the grenades, the confusion... This scream was beyond anything. You saw Maggie fell to the ground groaning, tears streaming down her face. You turned in the direction of her tortured voice. Rick. Rick stared at the door of block C. There was the Governor. He had something in his hand, something that bleed heavily. Your thoughts stopped and so did your body. As your eyes focused on what he was holding, you felt deprived of everything. Empty... The right arm that was raised so everyone could see it showed Hershel's head...

The Governor's P.O.V.:

The sniper, as ordered, shot at the woman on the watchtower. The signal that informed the driver of the bus to break the main fence. The group unnecessarily hid in the belief that the bullets were their only problem. Y/N had proved incapable, a traitor. I had made a mistake believing in her, and worse, I had made a mistake not killing her last night when I had the opportunity.

The driver opened the doors and allowed the living dead to get into the prison. Y/N aimed at our cars, but the distance did not allow her good accuracy and the group scattered in panic. I was the one who led this war... We also destroyed the other fences and made our way through the prison. My men fired without mercy. The Walkers went ahead hungry and forced them to split up. That way, it would have been easier to overpower them. They were trapped, damned to death and I, their hangman. The tank hit the prison again. Shumpert aimed at Y/N, but that bitch was faster and killed him. That damn Whore... I had to kill her, she made my blood boil. Unfortunately, I only fired into her leg.

"Martinez!", I shouted: "Over there!"

He unloaded the machine gun at the part where Merle's brother and the slut Y/N had sought shelter. In the meantime, I quickly moved between the Walkers and killed some. The tank fired again. The air was warm. She smelt burned. The shouts, the shots. They satisfied me... I had destroyed their little paradise and led them to hell. I saw the old man go into the prison and I knew he was in a dead end. A new victim... But suddenly I was in front of Michonne and immediately hit her in the face with the fist, with all the anger I had in my body. This woman took everything I had left: My beloved daughter Penny... She fell to the ground and I stole her sword whereupon I went to the cell block C. The old man was a few feet away. I had built an empire, I had people in my service, I had convinced everyone that war also means peace. I was a leader. And so I walked through these corridors with slow and safe steps.

"Beth! Beth!", shouted the old man.

His daughter must have been there, hidden somewhere. But the debris slowed him down. Then he stopped, as if surrendering. He had seen me and understood that it was over. He didn't say a word, just looked at me with those clear eyes that showed justice and common sense. He had to die. No one was allowed to remain... I grabbed the handle of the sword and lifted the sharp blade into the sky and let it fall back with full force. The screams of a girl distracted me, it had to be Beth. But she didn't have the courage to move forward. She stopped at the end of the corridor and stared at her father's face. But my show wasn't finished yet. I would have shown everyone what was waiting for them. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket and approached the girl. For a moment, I considered removing her as well, but killing her would only relieve her own pain while I wanted her to suffer forever. So I left her there, in the company of her beloved father's body. She would never forget this picture... Did I feel almighty? Yes. I opened the damn door and raised the old man's head with hatred so everyone could see it. I was at the center of the situation, all eyes were on me. On their faces, expressions of pain and disbelief had formed as if they were dizzy. But that was the reality, they would never wake up from the nightmare. The group moved, but they were blocked by my men and a horde of Walkers coming closer and closer. Rick, who was farther away, was the only one who managed to reach me. I threw the head away from me which was rolling through the dust on the ground. Rick threw himself at me like a lion trying to rip a gazelle and the sword slipped away. I let him have his first punches just to make him believe he could win it. But then we swapped roles. Now he lay with his back to the ground and I was the aggressor. My hands were shaking with the desire to kill him and I didn't protest. We heard screams and shots around us. But everything sounded muffled. I focused exclusively on my sacrifice, so much so that I did not know what was happening nearby. He moaned in pain and was on the verge of fainting. Suddenly a stream of blood poured over him. A blade. The katana came out of my abdomen. At that very moment, I felt the intensity of the pain and fell to the side. They fleed. Everyone of my people screamed and fled. The wave of the living dead had arrived and ended the fight. It shouldn't have ended like this, that was not what I had planned. I should have been victorious. I couldn't die. I wasn't allowed to. I was not allowed to die here...

Y/N's P.O.V.: 

Something exploded, grenades, cars, you didn't know. You were in pain. Every sound was muffled. You tried to get up, leaning on your hands, but had no balance. You clung to the rest of the fence and saw what catastrophic power had fallen on the prison. A wounded man equipped with a flamethrower tried to set fire to the herd of living dead... You hobbled as fast as you could and moved with small but unsteady steps. In the distance, you saw Glenn throw himself into the bush and flee. You looked around quickly and hoped to see someone else from the group but couldn't find anyone. You remembered Rick's scream, the last thing you heard earlier, and immediately looked at the cell block door. You ran as fast as you could and dropped to your knees in shock when you saw Philip on the ground... His hands were busy pressing on a wound on his stomach. He looked at you lost, as if he saw something else around your figure. He died slowly, surrounded by the chaos he had created. A murderer who fell in his own war. He would have killed you without hesitation and yet you couldn't avoid the strange feeling that his image offered you. You should have shot him but couldn't suppress the damn trigger, you just wanted to see him die slowly and painfully. But you had to leave. And then you ran as fast as your bullet wound allowed you to escape through a hole in the fence and then to escape through the vegetation. Your foot collided with something metallic and forced you to look down to see what it was. You noticed Daryl's crossbow covered with earth. You shook it, removed the superficial layer of dirt, and hung it over your shoulder. But your eyes were caught by another detail that you would rather have missed. Hershel's head was still alive... The transformation process was already complete. The iris seemed to be covered with a gray veil. The mouth was wide open, careful to bite into the void. You couldn't leave Hershel under these conditions. You felt sorry for him and so you sank your knife in his head and gave him the peace he deserved.

One last time you looked back at the prison, at what could have been a home. Now you were on your own again, but this war was finally over. And so you went your way and dived into the dense vegetation of the forest...


	12. Chapter 12

You didn't know where to go, you didn't have a plan or any damn idea what to do. Your conscience told you again that you should run away to escape the horror that fate had bound you to... You pushed the pictures out of your mind, you didn't want to experience those moments in your head again. Hershel's hair intertwined like silk with your bloodstained fingers. You wanted to close your eyes, to forget everything. Although you held his head in your hands, you didn't have the courage to look at him. You had to find an accommodation, but as far away from the prison as possible. You wondered why the group did not set up an escape plan, or at least a meeting place in case you got separated. It felt strange that Rick hadn't thought of it so thoroughly. On the other hand, you didn't know him at all. You didn't know any of them. You had gotten into a stupid battle and had sided with yourself because you felt guilty, responsible... And besides, you had made a good bond with everyone in such a short time that you yourself were astonished. But it was useless to think about what had happened, because your decisions were now past. You felt your lungs collapse and beg for mercy. So you stopped running and leaned against a tree. No Walkers were around, but you noticed a big red X on the opposite tree. Someone had marked a path. It would probably have taken you to a shelter or hut. Thus, you went a little further and hoped to find the symbol again. And so it was. You also hoped that the goal was not too far away. Your body barely responded to your orders... You were exhausted, tired, hurt, and only on your feet thanks to the determination. At that time you couldn't afford to give up. Dedication only led to one thing: It meant choosing death. However, after about an hour, all good intentions collapsed and you collapsed with them. You found yourself lying on the ground. The sun shone and irradiated the surroundings with her warmth while you would have liked a fresh breeze. As much as you tried to think of something else, your mind moved back to your actual feelings. You feared for the lives of the others...

"The good guys in this world can not survive."

You've heard that phrase so many times before. But you didn't want to believe it. However, you knew it was true, everything you've experienced so far proved it. You were now a self-reliant survivor that hadn't proved difficult in the past, but the problem was that you had made it a habit to put people in your heart. And the bullet hole on the leg was now causing pain and annoyance again... Daryl came into your unconscious mind and reminded you that he wanted to cut a hole in your pants to make sure that the bullet wasn't in there anymore. But you didn't have a hole in the back of your thigh, which meant that the object was still in your flesh. You should have gotten it out, but at first you wanted to reach the desired shelter and maybe surround yourself with that silence that would finally make you realize what had actually happened. Of course, you were clear in the head, but this story wasn't processed yet... You didn't have the time and as long as you were busy, you focused on getting to safety. You knew you would collapse when you were in this hut after shutting the door behind you. When you had recovered the few powers that were still in your body, you picked yourself up and ran on. Daryl's crossbow swayed on your back and swung to the rhythm of your sketchy steps. It was definitely not a heavy weapon, but unfortunately it felt like it now. It was probably just a desperate attempt of your body to ask for mercy again. Your brain struggled with you, trying to project the faces of the group in every way. Rick, Beth, Glenn, Maggie, Carol, Carl, Judith, Michonne and Daryl. Suddenly, you saw a dozen Walkers in the distance, hungry for fresh meat. You took a few steps back, careful not to make any noise. Maybe you had the opportunity to avoid them, they hadn't noticed your presence yet. You went back immediately. Your legs were as heavy as cement. So you needed to find a solution as soon as possible before the living dead could reach you, but a lonely Walker stood out of nowhere in front of you, trying to sink his rotten teeth into your shoulder. Suddenly you had an idea... This lonely Walker was the solution to move unnoticed between the other Walkers. So you killed him and smeared his guts and blood on your body. He also had a backpack on his back. When you opened it you found a diary, a bottle of water, two glasses of fruits and a torch. You were curious to read the diary, but you knew it would hurt... The water bottle was full, but you did not know if you could drink it. Dirty and stinking, you returned to your search. You crossed a clearing and often walked beside the Walkers. You couldn't quantify how much time had passed, but found a shelter behind some bushes. The structure was made of dark wood, covered with moss and ivy branches. But otherwise it seemed to be in excellent condition. The door was locked, so you went to one of the windows and peered inside. You saw pieces of wood near the fireplace, some blankets and some dishes on a sink. Maybe someone else was living there... You knocked on the glass and waited. Nothing... And so you smashed the glass of the window with your bare hands. When you were in the house, you slowly opened a door, ready to kill when needed, but faced yourself with two single beds that were very clean. Actually, everything seemed to be relatively clean there, in addition to the large layer of dust that covered the whole thing, there was little that was out of place. It was possible someone was hunting or gone on an expedition... The entrance had been closed. It wasn't an abandoned place. You just hoped that they were good people. There were also a few rags on the floor. You checked the drawers of a bedside table, curious to learn about the survivors. But nothing, they were all empty. You changed rooms and examined the bathroom. Many dirty clothes had been thrown in a corner. On the sink you saw a toothbrush and a blood-soaked razor blade. The last room was another bedroom with additional cots, four in all. But they seemed to have never been used, unlike the other two beds in the living room. On the table you saw a glass and a dislocated chair. Everything gave you the idea that only one person lived there. But it was just a hypothesis. In the closet there were many supplies of food. You wanted to take some glasses, but you thought it would be better not to touch anything. Then you turned around and looked at the window. Well, the person would have been angry anyway... And shortly after that thought, you already heard a few steps. In fear, you grabbed a gun and positioned yourself on the wall next to the front door so you could immediately point it at his head. A key slowly snapped into the lock. You tried not to make no noise so as not to be noticed by the person who was soon inside. The handle lowered and the door moved forward. A baseball cap covered part of his face and you couldn't see his facial features well. The man raised his hands to his shoulders as if to surrender. Then you removed the gun and took a few steps back. He turned and you looked at each other. As soon as you could see his face clearly, you lowered the weapon and he did the same, because he recognized you too...

"Well... Long time no see...", he said with a false smile: "This time without your friend with the sword?"

The man you had taken the plaid shirt away stood before you, alive and well. For some strange reason, you were happy to see him. You had met him in an ironic situation and talked to him for only an hour to teach him and his friend how to go unnoticed among the Walkers, and yet he gave you positivity.

"You too?", you just asked.

He looked down and forced his lips into a grimace. It made you realize that he was alone, his friend was dead. You secured the gun again, so you did not want to have any problems and he put a shotgun on the table, closed the door and threw himself on the couch.

"Did you come to kick me out again?"

"No, I will not kick you out and I see, you have settled in well..."

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah... You know... He was a good man, now I'm alone, but you... Don't you have a group?", he asked, pretending not to remember.

Your fingers sank into the armrest of a chair. He noticed it and an answer was no longer necessary. Then he looked at you again and noticed your physical condition.

"Listen, I'm not an asshole. Do not get me wrong, you can stay to rest for a while, but I want you to go later, okay? One day, or two at most."

It had gone better than you thought. The accommodation was quiet, the current owner as well. The next day, you convinced him to extend your stay if you wanted to. Actually, it was good for you to spend a day alone, just to mentally and physically recover. Then you would have to clarify how you would organize in the future.

"It's okay, I don't need to justify myself."

This familiar face had relieved you temporarily...

The cold water from the shower benefited your body. It was like waking from a long dream, a nightmare, to be exact. The previous owner had had some pipes and managed to connect the house to a nearby spring, more your friend couldn't tell you. There was even a piece of soap on the edge of the tub, but you didn't even think about using it. You still had your hygiene in mind, though it seemed ironic. It was like throwing all these pictures down the drain, it was like leaving the fresh past behind. Dust, pain, death. Everything... You crossed your arms, put your hands on your shoulders and closed your eyes. The icy drops of water sang sinfully along your body, reminding you that you were still alive. In one way or another, you survived and had to go on... Maybe the guy you had the plaid shirt from did not want to tell you his name, but you were sure he was sorry. You don't think he really wanted to kick you out, but he still had to act with some severity. Now that the wound was clean, you were able to pull the bullet out. You dug the tip of a knife blade into the hole and gritted your teeth. It was extremely painful... The bullet fell to the floor and you wiped the wound with a clean rag. The bathroom door suddenly swung open and made you flinch. Your friend had the gun back in his hand.

"I knew I couldn't trust you!", he shouted but you didn't understand what had happened. Then, suddenly, your brain found out the cause.

"You're a psychopathic murderer!", he yelled again in your direction.

"Take the gun down! I can explain it!", you said to him. He stepped forward and put the barrel of his rifle on your chest. At that moment, you were busy thinking about how to calm the guy down.

"Okay, please... Listen to me, it's not how it seems, I-...", you started, but the man interrupted you and kept shouting at you: "There's a damn head in your backpack! It's not what it looks like? What reasonable person would run around with a damn head in bag?"

He had every reason to react like that, because it really did not sound very normal...

"I'm not a murderer and not a psychopath! That... The head was..."

You couldn't find the words, your voice began to tremble, swaying between the memories of this terrible scene.

"Hershel, was a friend... He was a special person, I escaped from a war and I took his head with me... Just because I wanted to give him a funeral... He deserves it... I bury him as soon as I find a safe and distant place, far away from where he had to die..."

His eyes softened, he lowered his rifle and rubbed his neck. He felt guilty, embarrassed, and did not add anything. You let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door with his head down and sat on the edge of the tub. Later, when you finished washing your clothes and could put on some new clothes, you reached the living room. Immediately you saw the open backpack and the man at the front door. He had a gray rag in his hand... He had wrapped Hershel's head in there and pointed to a shovel lying on the sofa. You took it without saying a word and went out with him. You both walked for several minutes until you reached a wonderful place. A field covered with yellow and purple flowers. Their delicate scent was in the air. Such trivial visions gave this cruel world a sort of melancholy. You looked at your acquaintance in disbelief. You knew from the moment you first saw him in the pharmacy that he was a good person, but you never thought he was so sensitive and emotional. This place was perfect. You were not religious, but you wanted to believe that Hershel's soul appreciated it. It probably wouldn't have made a difference if you had left him at the prison, but your heart had made you act that way. It had been a spontaneous, unforeseen action... You pushed the shovel into the ground and dug a small ditch. In the meantime, your friend had built a cross with branches and bound them together with ribbons. Meanwhile, lost in an inner monologue you remembered the acts of this kind-hearted man, the few that you could see, but which were enough to show you that good people still existed and survived. Together... One last time you looked at his hair, then covered the grave with earth and shed some tears in silence. Rest in peace, Hershel Greene...


	13. Chapter 13

His hands carried the sharp hatchet and reached for some pieces of wood. The weather had stayed the same during those weeks, the day was hot and the night was freezing cold. But luckily the house had a fireplace. In the end, your friend did not told you to leave, and you thought you were both happy to find each other again because none of you would like to be alone no matter how hard it was to admit it. And now this kind of cooperation has started. Living together, if you can call it that. You hunted and went on expeditions... In short, you did not lack food. The house was solid and safe. A few Walkers bumped against the door now and then, but you had managed to eradicate them bit by bit. Nevertheless, you were neither happy nor relieved, you had learned not to enjoy situations as optimally as they could be, because you did not want to be disappointed if another misfortune happened.

'There is always a storm lurking behind a calm sea...'

You stacked the logs in a box and returned to the house. When you arrived, you kindled the fire and then sat down on the ground next to it. The window that you had broken, you had provided some boards to it, but unfortunately there was still draught. You cooked over the flame some birds that you had impaled. Your friend had told you he had lost his family from the beginning, he had been in a group and spent a year with them in Macon. Then things went bad and they had to flee in different ways. A bit like what happened to you... In the end there were only two of them left, he and his now dead friend. You had interviewed each other in the first few days as if you wanted to speed some kind of forced friendship, but at least you had avoided questions about the future. You only knew what you needed to know. When you had the opportunity, you returned to the place where you had buried Hershel. You had promised yourself that you would never think of it, but you could not forget it. Part of you hoped with all your heart that the group of Rick Grimes was safe, that they were fine. You knew that it was very unlikely that it was impossible for everyone to be alive. Of course you would never see them again, but at least you hoped they had made it and survived.

"You miss your people, right?", your friend suddenly asked you, interrupting your thoughts.

"I hardly knew these people, I don't want to think about it.", you replied.

"I don't believe you, I know-...", he began, but you interrupted him: "No, you're wrong."

"I thought we could look for them, in short, as you described them, they seem to be good people, I can not believe you think they didn't survive, maybe we could survive here together as a group. We could even build another shed."

"Do you really believe the bullshit you say?"

He looked annoyed at you: "It was just an idea... It is possible that they haven't lost too much."

"And what could you do with it? You always said that you no longer want to be part of a group and I don't want to know these people anymore."

"Yes, that's true, but I'm not stupid, I know that with the excuse of hunting you're going to the grave of the old man."

"Even if they were still alive, it would be a miracle to find them again, it was a few weeks ago, they might already be far away, or dead."

He stood up: "If you really believed that they were dead, you would have said it immediately, you ignore the discussion of where they might be, stop lying to yourself!"

You stared at him. It seemed to you that he could read your actual thoughts... But he understood that the conversation was over now, because you would never have agreed to look for them. It was just too risky. Needless to make the situation worse, you just had to take advantage of the silence of that moment. It seemed like an idyllic break and you wouldn't have broken it again. With a full stomach, you threw yourself in the chair and hugged your legs at the height of your chest. You watched the animation of the flames, the shades of that glowing, hot spring. The man lay down on the sofa and folded his hands behind his head. The sweatshirt, though very tall, made his muscles appear.

"I read the first pages of this diary...", he admitted: "But it's not worth it."

You understood that it was heartbreaking. The reading of these pages had to be torture. You lived day by day. That was the new reality. You were aware that the world of the past no longer existed and would never return. When you experienced the memories and pain of another person, only the emotions that you wanted to suppress every minute of your uncertain existence emerged. You did not want to read it and you would not try it anymore. It was like building a barrier, something that could keep you from suffering. But your friend and you weren't that different. You have worked so hard to be stubborn and apathetic towards others, not recognizing that you have made them part of you. At every death of one of your friends you both suffered a loss as from part of you too. You now scanned the shadows of the flames with your gaze swinging on his body. You have done everything not to feel any friendship for this man, you fought with yourself to prevent any kind of affection. But in fact you both already had a bond... He had managed to help you when you were at the end of your powers. He had given you stability. And you were thankful. He enjoyed making you smile, but you knew he was doing it to distract you from the past. You immediately looked away and returned with your eyes to the fireplace. From time to time the wood creaked as if it suffered from the heat. You crouched on this comfortable chair and lost yourself in your thoughts until everything was dark.

{You ran up the stairs and risked stumbling several times, but stopped at the handrail. You felt your heart tremble, you were in turmoil and panic. You forced yourself to stay calm, but the pressure had increased and you risked a panic attack but in this situation you couldn't afford it. And so you pushed open the door and threw yourself in. You grabbed her desperately. She understood that something was wrong and hugged convulsively her stuffed animal. Her eyes were bright and red, they were already full of tears. You took her bag under the bed and began to fill it with clothes and everything you thought necessary. Noises from the lower floor made you both jump. You were afraid your parents could break the door. You had to leave as soon as possible. The shooting began to echo in the neighborhood and your little sister covered her ears and whined. So you looked out the window and what you saw scared you even more. A horde of these things wandered around the neighborhood. Everyone was on the run, busy loading the cars. You had to get out of here. It was too dangerous. You tugged at your little sister and forced her to look you in the eye.

"Take your things, okay, I'll go down and get food, we'll get out of here."

You took her hands as if to reassure her. She was not stupid, she knew something serious had happened. But she still had no idea about the deterioration of something that looked like a harmless disease. You ran into the basement and grabbed your father's two bags, one of which was locked with a padlock. It contained firearms. You hurriedly searched for the keys in the various drawers. Then you shuddered... They were in your father's wallet. But if you entered this room, they would attack you immediately. You had to find a way to open it later. Luckily, there was always a gun in the car, a pistol. It would have sufficed for the time being in case of danger. You went into the garage and threw the bags in the car. Then you went back to the kitchen and emptied the fridge. You had no idea where you would go, so you took everything with you. You did not want you and your little sister to end up in bad situations without food and necessary items... Everything that seemed useful ended up in the bag without a specific order. Meanwhile, more television pictures of various attacks in other cities appeared. The epidemic had spread at absurd speed, infecting most of Atlanta and around. Those who were bitten or scratched became those beings. The news broadcast some horrible pictures, like a kid who shot those things. But these showed no pain, on the contrary, they progressed aggressively. The experts didn't understand what was going on, everything led to total delirium. These things were aggressive and tore anyone who met them. If the bullets were not enough, you would have to find something else. Now you went to the bathroom and took the toothbrushes, toilet paper and soap. Suddenly you heard a few steps and saw your little sister in tears with the bag in front of you. It was time to go... And so you ran with her back to the garage and started the car.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart, don't look."

But she did not obey. You drove down the street trying to avoid the infected. You could hear screams, gunfire, even the fear... You turned on the radio and hoped for some constructive news, but had to change several stations because some had already interrupted the communication. At last a male voice echoed in the car. The signal was disturbed, but you understood a few words from time to time. Atlanta, army, relief, salvation. Safe area, refuge... But damn, Atlanta was relatively far away for your current situation. You lived in Senoia... But it wasn't a problem, you would have done anything to bring your little sister to safety. You had to make it...}

You suddenly jumped up and your thoughts moved away from this reminiscent nightmare. The room was still dark, you had not slept much. You noticed that you had your friend's hand on your shoulder and sat up. He was awake, got up and went back to the couch, while you looked at him with wide eyes.

"You had a nightmare, I thought it would be better to wake you up."

You looked at the necklace that you had now tied around your wrist. It belonged to your little sister... It now covered the foremost part of the scar...

"Now it will be hard to fall asleep again.", you replied.

He shrugged. "As if that was a novelty...", he added.

Although you were safe, no one had found the right rhythm yet. You didn't sleep enough and when you could close your eyes, you were always eager to hear sounds and ready to shoot when needed. Your life was hanging by a thread.

"We could explore the area beyond the road we saw in the distance, there were a few other houses."

You nodded and showed approval. Lately, you have eaten small birds and snakes. Food was a priority.

"Shall we go now? Within an hour, a maximum of two, the sun will come out again."

He tapped his fingers on the soft sofa and watched the sky from the window: "Yeah, I don't think it's a bad idea, so we can do something rather than get bored.", he said, satisfied.

And a short time later you took your weapons, as well as two backpacks, closed the door and went off. The flashlights allowed you to see even in the darkest areas, but the sky was slowly getting brighter, every step you took. You heard a few sounds of Walkers in the distance, but as long as they were far away, they would not have been a problem. It would be unnecessary to waste energy. Your friend told you some anecdotes about his school life and you both laughed a little bit. Sometimes you were amazed that you could do it again... You wondered when even this simple gesture would become an old memory. But a loud noise forced you to raise your eyes in panic. A helicopter flew at high speed over the area. Instinctively you thought about how you could get their attention, but the gray smoke convinced you that it was not useful. Probably your companion also had the same thought, in fact he didn't seem to be attracted to it and a short time later you heard in the distance the loud bang of the crash. So you continued to follow the road, paying attention to the movement of the sun. Meanwhile, the black obsidian clock Rick gave you had broken, but you didn't throw it away. You still kept it with you, in the pocket of your leather jacket. You both walked quietly next to each other until you reached the houses. He was a little unsure, but inside you saw some food and bottles. You knocked on the windows and waited until you were sure that no Walkers were in the house. As you were finally in the house you grabbed the glasses and put them in the backpacks.

"Are you going to check if there are any medications in the bathroom? I look around the other rooms.", he said, and you did it.

The tub was destroyed and the mirror over the sink was smashed. In a closet without doors, you reached for a first aid kit and some antibiotics. Satisfied, you left the room. You had never found much medication or bandages... But you did not have time to inform your companion that a Walker grabbed your ankle and you lost your balance. You fell forward and hit your head on the floor. The Walker clung to your legs and climbed over you. He had no lower limbs anymore... Suddenly you heard a couple of shots and realized: Your buddy was in trouble too. Before the bastard rammed his teeth into your flesh, you stabbed him with a machete and split his head in half. You stood up immediately, staggering, your forehead bleeding. You saw several Walkers in the lower floor walking around on the ground. You and your companion looked at each other clearly, you had to leave this house immediately. But when you were outside, you noticed that the street was surrounded by these damn bastards. The helicopter had attracted a herd of them.

"What the hell...", he whispered, looking at you in panic.

"We can't eliminate them all, we have to escape.", you said, grabbing him by his shirt. You started running and slaughtered those who wanted to assert themselves on your way. Even after you entered the clearing, the Walkers, though they had left the road, were scattered everywhere, forcing you to devise a damn plan. It was impossible to return to the house, you had to wait for the herd to continue its trek.

"Follow me!", you shouted: "Let's look for two lonely Walkers, you know what I'm up to!"

There was no other means, there were too many. You have never seen so many of them. You searched desperately for two Walkers left behind. You found a small group busy devouring a deer. So you threw yourselves on them like furies and massacred them like slaughter cattle. Others, however, came out from behind shrubs and didn't let you get to victory too soon. Back to back you tried to keep them away. But a Walker on the ground you thought dead, dropped your companion and the others lunged at him. As if possessed by a demon, you threw yourself on these bastards and shattered their skulls. You pushed their bodies away and approached your buddy for fear of finding him injured. He scanned his arms anxiously, searching for a few scratches and bites. But he seemed unharmed. You embraced him impulsively and at first he was astonished, his arms raised high, but later he changed his posture. You had both feared for the worst. And now you were not ashamed of this physical contact.

It was soothing.


	14. Chapter 14

The sky turned pink and faded in orange and red, as if it were a painter's palette. These soft colors gave one a feeling of peace and quiet. You both had escaped to this mass of wandering geography and now you went back exhausted to the hut. The journey was tiring and dangerous, you didn't have a single break to catch your breath. It seemed that the Walkers had multiplied infinitely, they were everywhere. Fortunately, the clearing was silent and let you hope to meet no more of them. You smelled of death... Your companion had a rotten bowel around his neck, like a scarf and yet at the same time he found it disturbing and funny. He had risked being bitten, but he did not care. On the contrary, he tried to deal with this matter positively. But you liked that part of him because it gave you some lightness. Although things looked bad, he could sweeten it with a few jokes. You came to a stream and washed off a little with the icy water to refresh yourselves, but above all to purify yourselves. You have colored the transparent liquid red and thereby distorted its purity. A faint breeze rose in the air, gently moving the leaves of the trees.

"Next time, we'll take them as pets.", he murmured, aggravated by the smell of rotting organs.

"Maybe we should always keep two Walkers on a leash.", you told him.

"I don't know... It would bother me to have them always and everywhere.", he admitted.

"Problem of habit!", you called.

Michonne had survived like that. She had spent months in the company of Walkers. A smart move. Your companion shook his head in horror. Apparently, his experience in the house had sufficed. He had no intention of repeating it. Refreshed, you continued the journey. As always, you talked about nonsense just to fill that silence. At some point, however, he asked a question that took you by surprise.

"I've noticed that you look at this necklace very often...", he asked nudging you. Smiling at him, holding back every veil of sadness and learning to handle those delicate dialogues, you remembered that only the Governor had been aware of that, but you had never talked about it in detail, and at that moment your soul told you that your buddy was the right person for it, perhaps because he knew you were not drowning in these memories.

"She was from my younger sister..."

"Shit... Excuse me, I did not mean to...", he apologized, regretting having opened old wounds.

You reassured him: "Don't worry, it's not a problem... I bought her this necklace when she was born and it hung in her room until she was old enough to wear it... And as-... ", you continued but couldn't talk about it. "You know..."

You felt your shoes walk on something soft and realized that you had reached the flowery field. You had not averted your eyes from the necklace without paying attention to the route. Your buddy invited you to sit down and you agreed. He put his arms on his legs and bent his back.

"Was she killed by anyone?", he asked in a weak voice. You waited just before you answered and lost yourself in this wonder of nature. The world still had beautiful places. Maybe if the humanity came back one day and learned to live differently, they might appreciate what they used to take for granted, even if they had to learn to live with terror. Nobody would have forgotten these times...

"No...", you announced: "She was bitten, she lost a lot of blood and I could not stop the bleeding... Before she closed her eyes, she repeated that she did not want to turn into one of those monsters. She begged me to avoid that... And then she told me that I should overcome myself to kill her... She was a child... She was my little girl and I her sister who loved her so much... She wanted to be like me... Strong and confident... Do you understand? She tried to comfort me, even though I was the one to calm her down to tell her that everything was alright, and instead she's watching her big sister, desperately kneeling down in front of her with tears on her face."

As you spoke, he put a hand on your back, as if he too wanted to calm you down. As if that hand said: "Hey, I'm here, I'll help you."

"She died in my arms... And I did what she asked me to do... And with the same blade I tried after that, when I cleaned it, to take my life..."

You took off the necklace and showed the long scar in the light. You stared at this line and saw this scene again before your eyes. Blood and pure desperation...

"What do you think about me now?", you asked, slightly depressed.

"Surprise! You're a normal person and not an apathetic robot built to kill every Walker. That's what I think.", he replied and you gave him a light punch on the back of the head.

"You son of a bitch!", you said smiling. You both laughed and it did you good. He had once again managed to create a calmer atmosphere. Then his face got serious and this blocked your smile.

"You don't have to be ashamed of trying to escape this new and cruel world, Y/N, you had nothing left to lose at the time... I've thought about it several times, too. I wanted to see how far I would have come if I had saved lives, if I had changed something for somebody. You lost your younger sister... And you felt inappropriate and guilty, you thought it was all your fault... I lost my big brother... He never lost the courage, he kept fighting for all of us... And he always smiled, believe me, his positivity almost annoyed me. I understood it, and I said to myself: 'Now it's your turn, fight and you'll see how far you'll come.'"

You looked at him with shining eyes. Talking about these topics freed you. Maybe you were always wrong to keep everything in your mind to yourself. You had carried that unruly burden on you without realizing that you could have solved it with someone. But maybe you never found the right person.

"Well, I would say, far!", you smiled at him as he got up and spread his arms out to be considered.

"Yes, look at me, I'm a fucking survivor, and I'm alive! And I owe it to you, it was really bad right now, but the important thing is that we're still there! We did not give up. That makes the difference. Even if we've gone through bad times, we're still there, not just scared, you know, there's something else and it's up to us to find it."

His words penetrated your brain. He was right with everything he said. You were so thankful and happy to have met him. You would never forget his speech, that kind of incitement to a search for a better life.

"We are still here...", you repeated. He grabbed your arm and forced you to get up.

"We are still here!"

He held you in a suffocating grip. His hugs were anything but delicate. But you appreciated that gesture, his words. But a sudden and deafening noise made you tremble and urged you to close your eyes...

A loud bang. A shot. And blood splashed on your face.

A loud bang. A shot. And your friend fell to the ground.

A loud bang. A shot. And he was dead immediately.

Time seemed to stand still, the environment moved in slow motion. That sound, that shot, kept ringing in your head. Two men came out of the bush and aimed each with a pistol and a bow. Determination, courage, calm, everything disappeared... Stunned, shocked and incredulous, you watched these men approaching, robbed of the idea of grabbing your weapon and defending yourself. It would have been useless. They would kill you as soon as you moved a finger. The grin on their faces was enough for you to understand what was waiting for you... When they were around, the guy with his gang pointed the gun at your head, and one of them began to search and took your weapons.

"Don't do any wrong moves, otherwise you'll end up like your little friend, you understand?", said the asshole.

To describe what you felt in those moments is impossible for you. Maybe you wanted to move, to defend yourself. Maybe it would have been the right step, maybe it would have saved you. But at that moment, you couldn't think. You were in a state of mental trance. You could not believe that your companion was dead and suddenly a distant voice came over.

"I'm going to pee and you're killing people randomly? I really shouldn't lose sight of you.", grumbled a man with pearl-gray hair. But when one of the men moved and allowed the newcomer to see you, he immediately changed his expression and became serious. He was the boss.

"Joe, look at what we found.", said the man, laughing.

The boss looked at you and then went over to his men. He seemed to be comfortable and looked at you with a strange smile.

"I'm sorry that my boys did not look after your friend, but you know how it works lately... There are no rules in this world anymore, or am I wrong?"

You didn't answer, it was a rhetorical question. But the other two laughed. The one man's look was the one that worried you the most, he seemed like a person who was not very stable. He was thin, with medium wavy hair and a dark beard. He was wearing an brown sweatshirt, showing the dirty gray shirt underneath. The other, however, was more robust. The denim jacket lined the round belly. Dark haired with very short hair and a bandana.

"Please don't hate us, you were a bit unlucky...", he laughed. "But still... You don't know how long my boys haven't had fun..."

You wanted to die, close your eyes and see nothing. And suddenly the two men seized you and threw you to the ground.

"Len, Tony! Hold her tight.", the boss ordered: "I'll start."


	15. Chapter 15

The smell of engine oil impregnated the whole room, making the air heavy and uncomfortable. Some car coaches had been set up like beds. The floor was dirty, but you were sitting there and you did not care. To tell the truth, you did not care, because the only thing you thought about at that moment was death. You were tired of fighting, you had resisted too much. You couldn't stand anything else anymore, you had reached the limit. During this horror, during the rape, your mind was involved in a single thought: 'Please kill me.'

And you did nothing but repeat it, as if you were convincing yourself that it would happen, as if they were convincing you that this torture would end and you would be fine, in another dimension or in some other fucked up world after death. Instead, you were still there, in this damn reality that was infested with living dead. But they weren't the real monsters, because these men vied for the title. The world was degenerate, bringing people into oblivion. In a place where they had to force themselves and fight, madness and violence had outstripped the solidarity instinct. Fuck survival, this is fun. That was the reason. In a place where everything went wrong, nobody can tell you what to do or not, there is freedom, pure and honest freedom of action. Goodbye values like ethics and morality. This is the beginning of the end. And you were overwhelmed by this situation. What was left of you? Something. A doll without content, that was you. An inanimate puppet. Feelings, emotions? Not here anymore. Instinct, fears? Not here anymore. You were frozen inside. Joe, after having his fun, gave the other two their time.

"A quickie, I recommend you.", he said laughing.

It was better to go back before it got dark, so he would hurry, happy with the sex. He hadn't left; on the contrary, he had continued to watch. But in his eyes you read no physical excitement, his was of a different kind. Excited, pleased to have crossed this limit of humanity. As if the chaos was a blessing, a new beginning for him and his colleagues. When the two men finished but Joe didn't think about leaving you there. You were a rarity, Len had told you. And the group enjoyed it. Well, now you were in one of their hiding places, or just going through... After showing you proudly, almost like a trophy, they threw you into a corner and tied your wrists with a rope. They undressed you with a simple look. You perceived their hunger. The physical pain you felt was strong, but never as distressing as your psyche. You kept staring at your wrists. The rope had been over-tightened, so much that redness had already formed on the skin. At first, you tried slowly, without arousing suspicion, to turn the wrists. But there was no way out. In fact, you hurt yourself and polluted your wrists with blood. You gave up. The henchmen mumbled and awaited their boss. Joe started a speech. He advised his men to wait for the next morning.

"It's not necessary to try right away, don't you think?", he said in his calm tone of voice: "Now you're weak and worn out."

Not everyone showed satisfaction, but no one dared raise objections. After all, you would have stayed there, a few hours would have made no difference. Len winked at one of the group, who laughed in amusement.

"She calmed down.", he said, pointing at you with a nod. "You have to see how she twists!", added Len.

One of the men looked at you and licked his lips. "Well, I like it when they fight back..."

But Joe raised his arms as if to draw attention to himself. Everyone fell silent and turned their attention to the head of the group. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

"Guys, please, we don't look bad, but we're not beasts."

You despised him for his ironic tone. You simply did not understand where he wanted to arrive with such an attitude. You weren't an idiot, the fact that they didn't talk about it wouldn't have improved your mood. You looked down again and rested your head on your knees. And so you closed your eyes and your now dead companion appeared in your mind. First his smile, then his body, stretched out among the flowers that you had loved so much. The same flowers that surrounded Hershel embraced this man. You couldn't understand what happened. You hadn't worked out his death yet. Everything had happened so fast. Your mind was filled with memories and images of those few weeks you spent in his company. Your confidences, smiles, laughter. He had taken you to another world, he had managed to shed some light on you. A glimmer of hope, a small glowing torch in complete darkness. And now, too, that faint flame was extinguished.

"Let's give her some time...", Joe said: "You will see that she will integrate well."

Then the gate rose and allowed the moonlight to brighten the room a little. In the corner where you were, you couldn't see who it was. Some cars prevented you from seeing. But in truth, you didn't have the slightest intention of seeing who had entered, you didn't want to see any new faces. It wouldn't have made a difference. So you still sat with your head down and looked at the blood running down your arms. You heard a few steps to reach the entrance and saw Joe's shoes disappear from your eyes and then his voice echoed.

"Welcome back! Profitable hunting?", he asked.

The newcomer threw a black garbage bag on the ground, but from the noise it produced, it became clear that there were cadavers in it. The guy answered with a simple groan, as if he didn't want to talk about it. Through your hair you saw a pair of feet. Everyone laughed and that surprised you. They laughed at him and not at you. From what you understood from the joke exchanges between Joe and Len, this person had recently joined them. Maybe his reaction to seeing a woman had produced the laughter of others. You assumed he wasn't such a bastard, but you couldn't be sure. Maybe he had just adopted a playful expression, happy to see fresh meat. You lazily raised your head to look at the person. One look was enough to see the soul of him. But when you allowed him to look into your face, you felt frozen. Your eyes wandered and you both were put into a state of paralysis. No emotion appeared, careful not to convey anything to the group.

"Claimed.", Daryl said.

You didn't understand that word, but it did mischief among the men. Len approached his head angrily and pointed to the archer.

"What! Who do you think you are? That's not how it works here!", he spat.

Joe put his hand between the two men and pushed them back a little. He bowed his head and moved his white hair. He looked at Daryl, and Len wasn't pleased to see any reaction from the leader, and continued to rant.

"Fuck it! Even if he understood the rules, this bitch belongs to all of us!"

The group supported Len and agreed. You understood that some rules had to be enforced, but there had to be a dilemma regarding the word 'claimed'. You were confused. In addition, Daryl's eyes continued to point to you, despite the speeches surrounding him. He stared at you in a strange way, you couldn't understand what he really thought. You were afraid he would have changed. Meanwhile, Tony accused the archer and grumbled that they had already given him too much. Joe calmly answered his henchman and finally turned to Daryl.

"Calm down guys.", he said: "Apparently our friend doesn't want to share."

The glare from Daryl's eyes embarrassed you. You could not keep eye contact, and so you often looked down. Then, from what was happening, you were taken back by the very lively discussion by pointing a gun at you.

"Bullshit!", Len shouted: "I aim at her until I get what I want!"

Daryl's hand closed into a fist, emphasizing the tight sinews, but no one noticed. On the contrary, Len was annoyed with the arrogance of the archer, as he apparently didn't care about the objections. Joe smiled at you and spoke to the angry man.

"Len, stay calm."

At that moment Daryl turned and put his face to Len, snorting through clenched teeth.

"I said CLAIMED."

Len moved as if to punch him in the face, but Joe stopped him.

"I understand your anger.", Joe said: "But look... We've never set a rule on this subject, we've always shared without having any problems with it, but we've decided that we could declare our things with the word 'claimed'. I feel compelled to agree with the man, and I can not deny it."

Everyone protested contemptuously, gesticulating and cursing, but they parted and reached their positions. They were soldiers after all. Len looked threateningly at the archer, but then gave up and left the garage. But you could not be happy... You understood that with Daryl's statement, now nobody could touch you anymore, but the idea of having to stay with them disgusted you a little. Although Daryl was in front of you, alive and well, you weren't able to enjoy it. Joe looked pleased to Daryl as if remembering something. Then he took a bag and handed it to him.

"You said you lost your crossbow, didn't you?"

Daryl nodded and grabbed the object.

"Today is your lucky day, the sweetheart here had a nice model with her.", he added.

The archer didn't open his mouth and just looked at you again. This time, however, he carefully examined you. He threw the bag on his shoulder and reached you with big steps. Curled up in a corner, you didn't know how to behave. He grabbed you carefully and dragged you to a door without speaking to you. He seemed to be angry... He opened the door and pushed you inside, and threateningly threw the bag on a shabby table. You took a few steps back until a locker blocked your way. Daryl scared you. His coldness and his silence. You had raised your hands to chest height, still wedged in the rope. After a few minutes of tension, as you stared at each other like two strangers, Daryl moved and approached quickly. You suddenly closed your eyes and surprised yourself when you became uncertain and anxious. But as soon as you were firmly in control, you let yourself fall into the arms that surrounded you. You were safe, now you were safe. This contact dissolved the anxiety of your soul and calmed you down. You put your head on his chest and he wrapped you even more in this embrace. He could have told you everything, but he wasn't an idiot, he knew that it wouldn't help. But maybe it were just your stupid thoughts, probably Daryl had limited himself to this action because he had acted spontaneously. In this case, it did not matter. He was there and that was enough for you. You could not say how long you had stayed in this position that seemed infinite and that you didn't want to quit, but at some point you parted and fell into a kind of embarrassment. He had pretended that he didn't know you, as if he wanted only something specific. You were naive about the game and limited yourself to not answering. The other men in the other room probably imagined he was abusing you. You wanted to say something, thank him and instead you just stood there. He took out his knife and used it to cut the rope. Instinctively, you massaged your wrists. He noticed the blood, took a red rag from his back pocket and pressed it to the wounds. This simple gesture, this worry. The hug... All brought back inner pain. You were overwhelmed. Like a stormy ocean. You cried while standing still, tears running down your cheeks. Daryl didn't notice it immediately, busy cleaning your wounds. Then his fingers stopped when he noticed the scar. He looked speechless and as soon as he saw your salty drops of water, he felt useless. With a gesture, you told him not to worry. Of course there were a few chairs and a broken couch, but at that moment you didn't care about the comfort and collapsed on the floor... Daryl joined you and sat on the floor as well. It was an unreal situation, everything seemed so confusing. A series of terrible and solar events within a few weeks. A change of ups and downs. And now you had to find yourself on the verge of madness, but the fact that you had found Daryl led you to hope...

"Were ya' alone?", he asked.

Shoulder to shoulder, you both stared at the opposite wall.

"Yes...", you answered as a lie. You did not want to talk about your buddy and Daryl sighed. He too must have been a little confused. He was left alone, he had lost all his friends, his family. He had joined this group and who knows why. He would have thought, like you, that everyone was dead. You didn't think he thought you were a friend, but knowing that you lived had instinctively created the hope of the same fate for the others. But for the momentary happiness the contempt and the sadness were immediately returned. His new group had abused you and if it hadn't been him, it would have taken a long time. On the other hand, he was thankful that you were alone. If you had someone from the prison as a companion, it meant death at the hands of these bastards. Basically, you couldn't know how he really felt.

"Ain't happy to see ya'...", he whispered.

"Well then."

"I mean-...", he added, consciously offending you: "...- I would've preferred that they hadn't foun' ya'."

"Me too."

He got up to get the bag and put all the weapons on the table, including your backpack. He had his beloved crossbow and held it as if watching her condition. And he thanked you with his eyes.

"I stumbled upon escaping.", you said, as if letting go of this tension. You did not want to be in trouble, you saw that he did not know what to say and how to behave.

"We have to go away...", you urged.

"No.", he answered without explanation. You came closer and noticed that there was also the shotgun of your dead companion.

"What! You want to tell me that it's okay for you to stay with them?", you asked incredulously.

"Didn't say that."

He also examined the shotgun and pretended to aim for something. He checked all the items, looked up from the table, and looked at you.

"Ya' said ya' were alone.", he hissed. You examined the table and realized that there were too many weapons that a single person could have carried.

"If we want to get along, ya' 've to stop lyin'.", he said, masking a hint of nervousness. This sentence hurt you. He also referred to the Governor. But you did not blame him, he had every right not to trust you.

"The rifle, the machete and the notebook belonged to my companion."

"A survivor?"

"A friend.", you said. Yes, in the end you saw him as a good friend. As an anchor, as hope. A breath of fresh air in an oppressive world. But Daryl grimaced.

"Listen, I won' stay with 'em, I've been thinkin' 'bout gettin' away, but if I did it now, the claim on ya' would be meaningless.", he told you.

"So... What will you do?"

"We'll leave when time 's right."

"And when is that supposed to be?", you asked nervously. You didn't have the slightest idea that you had to spend many days at their side. Whenever Len, Tony or Joe opened their mouths, you would relive that moment...

"When their on the trail of other people, someone who killed their colleagues. If their near 'em 'nd attackin' 'em, we'll 've enough time to flee, they'll be too busy killin' the others to think 'bout us."

"Can't we just get out of the window and get away?"

"I do what I do...," he said: "I understan' that it's hard for ya', but please keep yer damn mouth shut, 'nd if we got out of this window now, it wouldn' take long for 'em to find us. They're hunters, I know 'em well, they're like me, they would follow the tracks without difficulty."

Breathless, you sighed. He was right. You would have to force yourself and wait to wait for this moment. It would have been hard for you to stay calm and quiet with each of their words. You wanted to kill them.

"Okay Daryl, we'll do what you said."

"Well... Ya' 'nd I don' know each other, we never met, it's true that yer now mine, but I can't give ya' weapons, they wouldn' accept that, so hide this knife in yer boots. If somethin' happens, ya' can at least defend yerself. Do what I tell ya', avoid killin' anyone, I've seen how ya' look at 'em. If we want that the plan works, follow my instructions.", he explained.

He talked to you about their habits, the rules they had imposed and their characters. He illustrated every detail he considered important. You did not interrupt him, you let him uncover this knowledge. You listened to him without being distracted and learning what was necessary. Although Daryl was busy explaining your future movements, you watched his face. He had changed, something in him was broken... When you were alone, you were sure that the actual Daryl would come out. Now he was busy with something else to integrate himself into the new group. You looked at each other and told each other that you were ready. You were now about to open the door, but he stopped you.

"Wait.", he said.

"Why?"

"They must believe it, they must have no doubt. Ya' know what I'm talkin' 'bout...", he said quietly, as if the others could hear it.

He wanted you to hurt him, where others could see it, in his face or his arms, just to simulate a fight and your defensive reaction. With the crossbow on his shoulder, he came closer and urged you to action. The idea of deliberately hurting him made you uncomfortable. He stood there and stared at you. You bit your lower lip, squeezing your fingernails into his flesh and pulling a little with your fingers. Daryl looked at you.

"That's it?", he asked, waving his arm: "A fuckin' scrape?"

"But I-..."

You had no time to finish the sentence, he scratched in several places. Of course, credible... After a nod you went back to the door, but as soon as you touched it, he stopped you again.

"What?", you asked impatiently. Not that you were in a hurry to get back to this gang, but you wanted to rest. You wanted to be alone in your own silence. Without answering immediately, he moaned annoyed and put back the crossbow. He took off his leather vest and shirt and stopped. He threw you his shirt, which was also dark and pointed with his forefinger at you.

"It's better if ya' cover yerself."  
You looked down slowly and noticed a rather deep cut. You blushed at once and covered yourself with the shirt. Daryl turned and hid his face. He wasn't good at hiding his embarrassment.

"Better than nothin'.", he said, adjusting his vest before going back with you to the men.


	16. Chapter 16

The sun was so dazzling that you were forced to lower your eyes. You all moved through a small town, a cozy village. Many terraced houses followed each other and switched to large and green gardens. Once it should be a small oasis. Nestled in nature, this quiet city had been devoured by the epidemic, the attack of the living dead. As things stood, it had already been looted. Joe did not even try to look at it. You crossed this fossil of civilization and reappeared in a clearing. You couldn't stand it anymore between trees, shrubs and other shit. You had spent over a year wandering through the forest. In a sense, you even missed Woodbury. Not the people you knew, not all, but your apartment. You had a bed, a bathroom, a dining room. You had a roof, a house... You were not worried and not always afraid of your life. You were safe. Instead, something told you that I you wouldn't find another equally quiet place. For example, the prison didn't take long to be destroyed. Everything seemed to fall apart, including you. Although your buddy had died after saying those radiant words of hope, you still wanted to believe it. You did not care how much you still lived, how much your legs had supported you, or how much your body resisted before collapsing for the hardships. You're still there, you repeated. Your good friend too, he is still there... And never would he have completely disappeared. It will seem strange, because you first knew him since a few weeks. But in today's reality are a few weeks, very long... They are a miracle. Every single day is a miracle. A miracle, in spite of everything. Yes, you live, but what else would you have to endure? And how long would you have to endure it? You couldn't know or imagine it. You were content to follow Daryl like a wounded animal, who seemed to be comfortable with these new group. You hadn't exchanged a single word in their presence. The scratches on Daryl had confirmed her thoughts, so Joe had knocked on his back as usual. The dry earth almost crumbled at your feet. You looked at her discouraged and identified with her. You were fragile and full of cracks... Yes, you were like this ground: Wounded, separated by long and deep furrows. Every other person would be desperate. Like when an object breaks and lies in a thousand pieces on the floor. You looked up and tried to think of something else, and behind the broad shoulders of Daryl you saw a few rails. When you arrived, you looked around. Finally no trees, these only served as frames. The rails were a good sign, they could take you to other urban centers, however rural they may be. Maybe you could meet another group of survivors. Maybe better than the last thing you had experienced. The men dispersed and examined the area. You understood that you would stop for a few minutes to refresh yourselves before continuing this exhausting manhunt. Joe split you into a pair with a simple wave of his hand and used Len as your partner. You looked at Daryl immediately and hoped he would protest. He was actually grumbling, but the leader preceded him.

"Calm down Daryl, Len will not touch her, he knows the rules.", Joe said. But you weren't so sure anyway. Daryl had explained to you that those who did not respect the rules had to face severe physical punishment, but Len was an idiot...

"Let's take a little break, if you see walkers, kill them. If you see animals, hunt them.", he said before leaving with Daryl.

Len spread his arms as though to invite you to follow him. You had the task to control the other side from which you had come and to re-enter nature. With the bow in his hand, Len walked in front of you, making sure not to make any noise because of animals. While you tried in vain not to stare at him, to think of something else, but ypur hatred for him grew more and more.

"What's wrong, bitch? You would have preferred to stay with that asshole with the crossbow, right?", he asked you: "I can see how you're looking at him."

"Don't you dare to berate me again, or else-..."

"Or else, what?", he interrupted you and laughed complacently: "Do you think the others are happy with what Joe said? You're our bitch, do not forget, you're us!"

He passed me you walked to the tracks. An uncontrollable urge to stab him intruded on you, forcing you to take a deep breath. You were not allowed to get angry, you were not allowed to kill him. You would only have made things worse.

"Your friend is back!", Len shouted suddenly.

You turned around desperately and noticed that Daryl was walking in your direction. The two met and patted each other on their shoulders.

"Did he...?", Daryl asked uncertainly.

"No, don't worry."

"I don't trust that damn bastard. Joe deliberately split 's up like that, he's testin' me.", Daryl told you.

"I think he understands and knows we know each other or that you've seen me somewhere... He's not stupid..."

He did not answer, but you understood that he too thought the same way.

"We're close to their prey, we've found some leftovers from chocolate bars, they follow the tracks, they wanna catch 'em 'fore they reach this place called Terminus.", Daryl said as he was about to cut a squirrel he had hunted.

Your face lit up. You approached the archer so you could look into his eyes.

"Terminus is a refuge, right?", you asked and he looked up.

"Doesn't matter. Ain't goin' there."

"For what reason, and how do you know about this place, did they tell you that?"

"There are signs 'long the rails, with a map. Joe said there ain't no room for us.", he murmured, and you couldn't believe he was so stubborn and narrow-minded.

"Do you believe him?"

He wiped his bloodied lips with the back of his hand and tossed the carcass to his feet, then dug his knife into a second squirrel.

"As ya' said, Joe isn't stupid."

You looked at him incredulously. It seemed too passive, as if he had given up.

"Daryl... If there are hints on the tracks, it's possible the others went straight there. Damn, I can not believe you don't want to go, they could be alive, you could see them again..."

But as soon as you finished the sentence, you realized that you had made him angry. You had to learn to calibrate your speeches, weighing every single word. Otherwise, you risked silencing him, followed by an attitude of unworthiness and hate. But in fact, without giving you a look, he threw the squirrel to you.

"They're all dead.", he said. "Eat."

The night came earlier than you thought. The day had passed quickly, as you had been relentlessly quiet. Daryl hadn't seen you and you had limited yourself to going in the company of these disgusting people. What Len had told you in the woods had alarmed you a little. Every few hundred yards, on either side of the rails, a sign appeared with a map attached to it. Terminus. In black, big and cubital. Safe area, it said, refuge for all. Maybe Daryl was right, maybe you were wrong to stick to the idea that the group could be there or that they were all still alive. But damn, you were alive and with you was also the archer. You did not want to digest the fact that others of you wouldn't have made it. You would've tried to convince Joe, and if you hadn't been successful, you would have shown Daryl that you were right. You would have gone alone to Terminus, you would have found them. Rick himself, careful as he was, would have decided to take a look at this place. Suddenly the snoring of others shook your sleep. You were exhausted, tired. You didn't want to sleep in their company, but now you could do little about it. An hour or two would have been short enough and better than nothing. Often you slept badly and tried to stay awake even in those moments of peace, but now that these men were snoring, it was impossible. So you tried not to make a noise. Carefully getting up, you slipped out of the hut you found near the tracks, hoping not to wake anyone. You sat on the steps of the front porch and watched the sky with your nose raised. This crystalline silence was interrupted by some noise from the forest. It had to be a walker... But you couldn't have killed him, the others weren't allowed to find out that you were armed. You had to hide to let this creature go its own way. So you clung to a tree near the hut and tried to climb a branch just above the roof of the hut. When you thought you were right above the roof, you tried to lower yourself, you slipped away and immediately you felt the emptiness, ready to fall on the hard ground, but something caught you and prevented the fall.

"So that's yer concept of not bein' noticed?," Daryl whispered.

You found yourself in his arms again, but this time it was necessary. If you had bounced, you would have made noise and woken everyone up. You loosened your grip and laid your feet gently on the roof.

"Now you're talking to me?", you protested, staring at your aching palms.

"Yer' only good at hurtin' yerself."

"And you're an asshole.", you added in a low voice and he sat up quickly.

"What did ya' say?"

"I said you are a very friendly man.", you answered ironically. He murmured something and reached for his knife to sharpen a piece of wood.

"What are you doing up here?", you asked after a while.

"Bein' alone."

"Me too, to be honest."

"Ya' got up without thinkin', without lookin' at who could be outside 'nd at night! As if that ain't enough, ya' want to get on the roof without even standin' on a damn branch! Do ya' find it funny to get yerself in trouble?"

You turned away a little spontaneously, as if appalled by his words. "Do you know what, Daryl? Just fuck you."

He despised you with a dirty look. He had no sense of humor, you had to give up. He did not want to talk, but you hoped to start a spontaneous dialogue just to understand the gist of it.

"As soon as we get rid of them, what are you going to do?", you asked worriedly.

"No idea."

It was really impossible not to get nervous with this man. But you weren't stupid, you felt very well how much he was suffering. He felt bad, but he had to remain the hero of the situation. He couldn't put aside the mask he had put on. He was the cold guy, the lonely one. But he wasn't as good as an actor. You thought of your previous companion, that night by the fireplace, when he asked you if you wanted to search for your group. And this time you asked the same question to Daryl.

"You miss your people, right?"

He stopped his obsessive actions. "Stop that!", he said. "Leave me alone!"

"Only if you stop behaving like you do not care about these people!"

He got up and kicked the piece of wood, which fell to the ground. Daryl angrily rubbed his neck before yelling at you, though he maintained a low tone.

"Then play the hero! Let yerself be killed too! Do ya' want to go to Terminus? Go alone, I ain't followin' ya', 'cause ya' don't know anythin' 'bout me, do ya' understand?"

You opened your lips to answer to protect yourself from such harsh words, but he kept talking to you.

"One more thin', Y/N! Do ya' really think anyone's interested in ya'? Do ya' really think if ya' should find Rick, if he should live, that he let's ya' live, after what ya' did?"

It was like a stab in the chest. It was like sprinkling salt into an open wound. It was painful... And your nails pushed against the roof and began to scratch it slowly.

"Do you think I do not feel guilty enough, Daryl Dixon? I know what I did and what I didn't do! I lied to you, it's true, but I did not help the Governor!", you explained in a trembling voice: "I don't know how Rick will behave if he's alive, but I feel the need to find them to make sure she's fine and I know that they live, even if you do not want to admit it! And if you feel better then spit out all that hate, move on, I don't care."

"Stop thinkin' ya' know me! And they're dead, stop kiddin' yerself!"

Courageously, you tried to be sure of yourself, not intimidated by his threatening behavior and brought your face even closer to his.

"Do you want to persuade me with this shit or yourself?"

"Shut the hell up!"

You stayed in this position a bit to hate each other with your eyes. He knelt beside you and you kept eye contact, ready to answer him if he added anything else. Then he went to the tree, ready to go down and finally to stay alone.

"If we get rid of 'em...", he started, insisting on answering an old question from yoh: "Then go 'nd fuck off! Look for dead people, I'll go to find my brother."

Instinctively you got up, tired of the fact that he didn't want to understand, tired of the fact that he wanted to continue with the scene, tired of the fact that he didn't want to be objective and face reality.

"Daryl, your brother is probably not near Woodbury anymore!"

"He didn't attack the prison 'nd that means he didn't return to the Governor, which means he can still live unlike the others!"

He clung to the branch and prepared to go down, and you could not help but spit out that bitter truth.

"Damn Daryl, your brother is dead...", you said, wiping a tear from your cheek before he was answering:

"I know..."


	17. Chapter 17

You have told him. Yes, the decisive words came out of your mouth. These words had found their way and freed themselves in the air. You said it the worst way. You said it without realizing it. A spontaneous gesture. This bitter truth had finally come to the surface and floated among you both in this unearthly night. Without tact, without delicacy, you had announced to a man the death of his brother, as if nothing had happened, as if you had delivered news from the neighborhood. Daryl remained motionless, one hand taut on the branch. He didn't turn to look at you, he didn't approach to ask for explanations. You took a step forward as if to reach him, but to the noise that caused your movement, Daryl clung to the branch and jumped away. You were petrified when you saw him running into the forest, like a wounded animal looking for a shelter to die. You were aware that you had broken him, but you never thought he had any hope for Merle. You mistakenly believed that he had given up on having imagined it. Maybe it was just like that until a few minutes ago. Perhaps the search for his brother was a trivial excuse, but the fact was that he never expected that statement, especially from you and especially at that time. In that feeling, he had turned his fears into reality... You knew he wanted some time for himself, but you also knew that Daryl could just as easily be a prey in this emotional state he was in. The darkness had engulfed the surroundings and made it difficult to see everything near you. But now you had made it your habit and trained your eyes to see what was necessary in the dark. You stepped forward anxiously and grabbed the knife that you had hidden in your boots. You went to the spot where the figure of the archer had faded, hoping he hadn't gone too far yet. Your feet collided with something and judging by the smell, it was easy to understand what it was. Daryl had already killed some walkers. You suddenly heard sounds, someone was nearby. So you stopped spontaneously to focus on that sound to better understand where it came from. Footsteps, but they weren't heavy or shuffling. As the sound grew louder, you turned around, but someone grabbed your wrist and let you rotate. You now were between a body that covered your mouth with one palm.

"Easy...", a male voice whispered. You shuddered and recognized the tone.

"What did you think, sweetie?", he asked: "Did you want to leave?"

You tried to squirm to free yourself from his grip. But as soon as you felt the tip of a blade on the abdomen, you stopped trying. You had been stupid to run after Daryl, he was right. Daryl didn't need my help, let alone your closeness. But now you had a more pressing matter to solve, You had to escape Len. You wouldn't have allowed him to touch you a second time. He licked your neck and gave you a disgusting feeling. After a deep breath, you lifted your leg and hit him with the knee in the crotch. This allowed you to take the hand holding the knife and disarm it. Then you kicked him on the knee and forced him to surrender. He fell to the ground, groaning and cursing you, but you ignored his words, which were as far from escape as possible. But you stumbled over the body of this man and landed on the ground. Len was back, more angry than before. He tried to grab your wrists to block you. You reached out your arm, looking for something, hoping to hit him with a big branch or something else. Your fingers sank into the ground, clutching a boulder, and with a swift blow you hit the stone in his face.

"Dumb slut!", he screamed in pain.

You pushed him away slightly because he was busy touching his bleeding head. You hurried out of the clearing and were strangely excited to see the hut. Although he had abused you, Joe wouldn't have broken the rules. You would have been safe near him. Even when you thought about it, it made you shiver. You heard some voices and understood that they were awake. Surrounded by the trees, you arrived in front of the hut. The group mumbled something about you, wondering where you were and whether it was necessary to look for you. As soon as they saw you, Joe looked at you and studied you carefully. One of the men interrogated you and pointed a pistol at your head.

"Where the hell did you go?"

"Pissing.", you just answered calmly.

"And your new friend?"

"I dont know."

Joe touched his shoulder and told him, without opening his mouth, to calm down and leave you alone. As he turned to protest, footsteps alerted everyone, eliminating the various security measures if a few walkers had arrived. Instead, it was Len himself who cursed as he pressed his hand against the wound. Here in the open, the moonbeams allowed you to see more clearly. You had hit him on the forehead, which seemed to have burst.

"Where were you?", Joe asked, pretending that everything was fine.

Len looked at you and tried to find out if you had said anything.

"Do I have to ask for permission to go outside?", he asked sullenly.

"Where did you get the injury from?", Joe asked, looking at the weapon in his hands. Len answered with a lie and stared into your eyes. He was afraid you had talked.

"Asshole!", you replied. The others giggled, amused by the scene they imagined. Joe joined their laughter. Suddenly, however, he reached out his arm and a shot echoed through the air. Len fell groaning to the floor. His hands pressed against his leg, from which streams of blood dripped.

"If I hate something, it's liars.", Joe said with a grin while Len screamed and cursed you again.

"I didn't do anything, this whore invented everything!"

You were petrified by the violence, not that you didn't know what they were capable of, but you had trivially thought they would take care of one of their men. They were beasts... Joe put his arm around your hips and told you to re-enter the hut. The door closed now, you heard the screams and beatings...

"Was it so obvious?", you asked curiously.

"To tell the truth, no.", he answered gravely: "You were pretty calm but also pretty excited, so nobody thought he touched you, but I noticed you were short of breath and dirty. Well, you could have escaped one of those things, but that certainly wouldn't have explained why you're so dirty, and then the wound on his head, it was one very clean, irregular wound."

He was rightly the boss. Nothing escaped him and he kept his men on a leash. Len's screams grew louder. As if you had said something, Joe kept talking and looked out of the window at the massacre.

"I don't say that we are in heaven, but we are fit for this reality, we have no difficulty surviving. The contrasts only arise between them, they are not intelligent, but they are animals. My job is to control the situation, to train them. Len was a weak connection and a subject of imbalance, dangerous to the group, and if it were not for you, he would soon have been dead."

"I don't care what you are, but I would say monsters instead of animals."

Without turning away from the brutal scene, he corrected you: "No, sweetie, if you think we're monsters, that means you've handled the Apocalypse well."

You realized that he could very well be right. The epidemic had produced the worst in humans. Suddenly you realized that Len's voice was gone for a few minutes, predicting what you would see if you opened the door. A disfigured corpse.

"I've noticed, you know?", said Joe.

"What?"

"The same day I met you, your eyes... Your eyes have something different, I immediately realized that you're not a naive girl, as if your eye color changes to certain situations."

You did not understand what he meant, but his reference to the rape annoyed you a lot.

"This reality is plaguing all of us, and if you stay alive for a long time, you'll soon be no different from the monsters you fear."

~

These damn rails never seemed to stop, but stretched miles away. The exhausting heat made this simple act not easier to go on. Your legs begged for mercy, but you had to ignore them. Joe's words had crept into your brain and stubbornly stomped. It was enough for you to look at yourself to understand the metamorphosis of your mind without my knowing it. You hated to problematize yourself, but that bastard Joe had put you in that crisis. If you weren't yet a monster, something was missing... Len's cries hadn't stirred any emotions in you, in fact you were happy with the fate that had been granted to him. You watched as Daryl ignored you, angry and hurt in his soul. You did not try to say anything, you knew that when it was the right time, he would talk to you again. That's how he was, he needed time to cool off, but above all to recognize and accept the death of his brother. As soon as the sun rose, the archer had returned to the group as if nothing had happened. Nobody asked him anything, not even Joe. You understood that he did it often. He had seen Len's body but hadn't wondered what had happened, nor had he looked at you. Since you were still in their group, it was only for him, otherwise you would have tried to escape. But apparently Daryl did not think so, maybe you only molested him. You were shocked by his way of doing things, you were surprised that he didn't want to know more about Merle. Not that you could give him an explanation, because Philip had said little to you. Daryl ran behind, on the other side you ran at the top and prayed that they would find the people who they hunted in a hurry. You still didn't know what to do, of course the first decision was to escape but at the same time you were not sure of their hunting skills. It was possible that these people were just victims and that they had to kill some of their men in defense. After all, they weren't very friendly and nice... You took on the problems of other lives. You knew that you would feel guilty if only you ran away. First, you had to make sure what types of individuals it was, but you still didn't know how to behave. Even if they looked like good people, how could you help them? At that very moment, everything depended on his mood.

Joe came closer, as if to whisper: "Since you came us, this man is just more disturbed."

"Oh yes?", you said, waking your thoughts. He looked around to see if he could speak quietly or not.

"There is no need for you to belong to him."

"I don't care.", you replied, hoping that Joe would let that issue go.

He ran his hand through his thick silver hair and smiled. You moved your eyes and focused on the horizon. You still could not digest the fact that you were in the company of the bastard who had raped you, and at the same time you were amazed at how calm you were. Your heart told you to attack him and put an end to his life, but your brain begged you to do the right thing, not to be a murderer, a monster like them. It would have been vengeance, an eye for an eye, an almost legitimate action... Still, something in you knew it was the wrong thing. You had to try to keep your being, your person, stable. The world had changed, but you could fight and didn't have to bow to this destructive power. Your identity had to stay intact. Still, it was a complicated challenge.

"Each one of us plays a character and plays a perfect role. Your friend here, for example, has decided to be a lone wolf. He thinks of being alone, of not needing anyone, but we both know that a wolf always belong to a pack in the end. And you, you're a diamond.", Joe said.

You looked at him and didn't quite understand what he meant, in the hope that he would give you an explanation.

"You're a diamond, you act as if nothing could upset you, but what you have not understood yet is that you're no longer innocent.", he added. "You are an impure diamond, something you don't seem to recognize at first glance."

"Well, thanks for the allegory.", you interrupted him: "But this psychologist shit doesn't interest me. I am what I am..."

A slight grimace appeared on his face: "What I'm telling you is that you've always been like that. A diamond is impure from birth, there's a break in it during its formation in the ground. Of course, you've suffered its own weight on load, but your impurity is not caused by external actions."

These words have beset you. Joe had just told you that you had a dark side, a part of you that you hadn't met, unlike him. For this bastard, it was obvious what you were. He tried to make you give up, to invite you to be what you're without following reason. He wanted you to act impulsively, to turn the outer reality into what you should have been from the beginning, as if past life had been just a cage.

"If you have to follow your logic, Joe... Then you act as if you were somebody else."

He looked pleased, glad that you had finally understood. "It's like that and that's the point."

You looked at your palms and allowed the sunrays to show those abrasions that you had stupidly done. As much as it hurt to admit it, maybe he was right. You have always been 'broken'. And maybe it was this peculiarity that allowed you to stay alive today. This could in principle also have advantages. It was up to you to manage those qualities. He probably did not mean anything malicious, maybe you just misunderstood his words. Maybe he tried to tell you something else...

"And you Joe, what would you be?", you asked. He looked at his men and raised his eyebrows.

"I am a leader, an alpha animal... My job is to keep these children at bay, to impose discipline on them. But to respect me involves a series of actions that I would normally find quite unpleasant."

You held back a laugh, incredulous to have heard that and he was amused to see you like this.

"What's the problem, don't you believe me?", he asked calmly. Your hands clenched into fists to crush his damn face.

"I can't believe you are so damn serious, do you think your people see you this way with different eyes?", you asked angrily: "Do you think that I believe in such bullshit? That's absurd! You tell me, that you did what you did just because your damn gang was still going to execute your orders?"

Joe changed his expression and became more serious.

"Do you think it's easy to be responsible for this barbaric mob? If I want to be considered a leader, they have to fear and appreciate me, I can not avoid certain situations, I have no reason to lie to you, I wouldn't have an advantage.", he said, returning to his group.

And you felt exposed to purgatory. He described your abuse as an accident on the way, as something he had to attend, as a situation he had to face in this way. And you, like an idiot, even thought about it, because that bastard had said at least one truth, and if he would lie to you, it wouldn't have worked. Basically, he forced you to reevaluate his character. He had not asked you to forgive him but to understand him. You turned around as someone attacked your arm and forced you to follow his furious gait. You plunged into a clearing, away from prying eyes. To say that he was pulling you would be a euphemism, more than anything else he tore you away. He took your shoulders and threw you against a tree, forcing you to stay still. His icy eyes weren't exactly inviting at the moment; On the contrary, they seemed to want to cut you into tiny pieces. It was Daryl Dixon.

"The hell's that shit?", he yelled at you.

"What do you mean, Daryl?", you replied, moving his arms away from you.

"Ya' can't really be that stupid, it ain't a game!"

"It would be easier to talk about it, if you would kindly tell me what you are referring to."

"Joe fucks with ya' mind, that's not normal!"

"If there is something that doesn't seem normal here, it's you.", you replied annoyed.

You weren't in the mood to discuss. You risked saying things that you did not think about. You were able to control yourself to stay reasonable in all these days. But Joe had shaken you, reviving your companion's death and the abuse, but not just the one you had to endure silently.

"Don't be a stupid, naive girl.", Daryl said: "I will not take care of ya', so stop behavin' like a bitch."

You stepped away from his threatening form. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be here to tell me."

"I don't care!", he answered immediately.

But you knew that you were right. It was useless for Daryl to create that distance because it was easier for you to understand.

"Listen, if you have nothing else to say to me... Then I'll go back now.", you said and started walking.

But he stopped you and grabbed your wrist.

"To these assholes who raped ya'? Damn, if I hadn't been there, the others would've done it already again!", he muttered: "What the hell 's urgin' ya' to go with 'em? What did Joe tell ya'? Do ya' really believe his shit? It's brainwashin'!"

Daryl offered to help you. He threw you back into the reality that you had missed. You released your wrist from his grip and approached the archer to make him feel uncomfortable. You didn't have to scream, unlike him you knew that even in lower tones you were honest and serious.

"And you also know that it would be pointless to repeat it over and over again. We are like this, right? We certainly take things for granted, but one thing makes us very different. I'll face all the shit I encounter.", you whispered and felt some tears on your cheeks: "I do not run away, I do not avoid confrontation. Nobody brainwashed me and you do not care, anyway what Joe just told me. It just annoys you that you still see me, it hurts you to see me stronger than yourself... It makes you nervous to listen to me and learn now."

For a moment you seemed to see him more relaxed, but after a few seconds his eyes brightened again.

"Do ya' expect me to be like one of those assholes, to call ya' a bitch? Fuck! Ya' could've told me of my brother! Tell me the truth, that day 'n the supermarket... That damn day when ya' told me you'd tried... Ya' knew he's dead, right?", Daryl said: "Do ya' think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I wouldn't 've been happy to find him 'live, but he's my damn brother. He's my blood. But maybe I'm an idiot 'cause I trusted ya'!"

He started to move away, but this time you were able to lock him by the wrist.

"Daryl, please don't run away... Do you think it was easy to keep this secret? I worked for the Governor, I was with you to execute orders, you have no idea how hard it was for me. Every time I looked at you, talking to you, I thought of Merle. When I came back to warn you, I realized what Philip actually was. That day in the prison... I wanted to tell you. After that I never had a chance. Yesterday it happened, I was mad at you... To be honest, I was hoping to tell you in a different way, maybe at another time... But we both know that there would never be a good time. Daryl, strange as you may see it, I was a good friend of your brother. I can not know what it was like before Woodbury, but there... Shit, he was always in a good mood and we used to go on expeditions together, you know? He talked to me about you, about his little brother, about the brat what you were and what he loved..."

"Just...", Daryl started suddenly, but you kept talking.

"I've been in chaos for six months, on a damn expedition to find shelter, a second home. I'm not telling you how all of my comrades died, but I survived. I was through winter alone, and as I came back to Woodbury, I couldn't see Merle. I thought he was home, drunk as usual, then a soldier told me he had cheated on us and that he had come back to you. Daryl, believe me, I was so happy for you... Merle had managed to meet you after all this time, you were together again. I didn't think he was a traitor. I thought he was happy again."

"Just tell me how he died...", he said.

"The Governor, he killed him...", you admitted, looking down. "Merle came back to ask for a truce to clear everything, after all, it was Philip himself who rescued him near Atlanta."

You stood motionless, like the trees near you. There was nothing to add, you had freed yourselves. Although you were often annoyed with his way of acting and being but you realized how similar you were. You were only able to open properly in the discussions, but your former companion had helped you at that time, while you couldn't do the same for the archer. You didn't know if he ever had anyone to make him talk. In a sense, you identified with him. You knew exactly what it meant to lose someone. Your little sister... You were somewhere the opposite of Daryl, although he was the victim of the same tragic fate. So you put your face on his chest and embraced him in a hug. You exchanged the roles of your first embrace, this time being the one who had the courage to embrace him, while he was the one who chose to remain silent and not return that gesture, not least the whole action. Maybe you were wrong, but his eyes seemed now shiny and free...


	18. Chapter 18

If they told you that you had to walk so much, you would've often went to the gym after work back then. Instead, in the last few months before the apocalypse you've been home, after a few missions with the army, you decided to merge with the sofa. Useless the excitement of your father, useless those beautiful afternoons, useless jogging clothes that you had in the closet. And now you've paid with the consequences... A cramp made your leg stiff and forced you to slow down until you stopped running. You put your foot in tension to dissolve the contraction as painfully as annoyingly. Daryl stopped and looked at you. You returned to the group who had offered a break. Too short for your taste... Now you were on the rails again, on those damn rails... In the meantime it was evening and luckily the air was fresh. Your muscles relaxed slowly and gave you relief. Daryl and you were at the bottom of the group, so it was easier for you both to get away later. You didn't talk to each other after this hug, as if you had decided to take some time to think. He didn't hate you, but he felt hurt. And you didn't hate him, but you felt attacked. The bag with your weapons dangled in his hands. When Joe said you were close, it shouldn't be too long. You would surely have reached these people when night falls. You looked at Daryl and said the first thing that came to your mind:

"Listen, we started wrong, how about a fresh start?", you asked, smiling, hoping that was enough to make him say yes. He looked at you uncertainly, then snorted. It wasn't really an answer, but you took it as okay.

"Okay... Y/N Y/L/N, twenty-five years old. My mother became ill at the beginning of the outbreak of the epidemic and bit my dad. I fled with my seven year old sister and we arrived in Atlanta when we fled from Senoia. I met a group and we joined them. Things went well for a while... Then a herd came to our camp and we had to flee. After a month my sister died... The Governor rescued me and you know the rest."

"That's why ya' tried suicide?", he asked tactlessly: "Ya' did it after yer sister died, right?"

You looked at the necklace and then at his face.

"I saw the long scar when I let go of yer wrists...", he admitted.

You had managed to tell your life in less than a minute, and spit out those memories without catching your breath. But the satisfaction had instantly vanished with this bitter question.

"We'll let that question go nowhere, okay?", you suggested.

"Okay."

You sighed, glad to have avoided this topic, even though he had already understood it very well, for your silence was more effective than any possible word. A red dot on the side of the rails caught your attention. You squatted to move the grass and saw a wild strawberry. You already tasted that sweet juice on your lips when a hand took that strawberry.

"Claimed.", Daryl smiled at you and started walking as if nothing had happened.

You were a little confused about his gesture, because he had done it only out of spite. But as long as he was thinking good about you, it was fine. It didn't matter if he was an asshole or not, it was enough for you to have him by your side. You felt less alone. You now quickened your pace to reach him, amazed that he was smiling.

"Fuck you.", you said and he snorted.

He got nervous and wanted to make you stop talking. Sometimes you enjoyed seeing him like that. You knew it was hard to make him talk, but you were confident that one day you would succeed. Patience and perseverance would be the way to success. The sky now darkened with each step and accompanied you in this search for the people. Joe motioned you to walk through the forest, because you would attack them out of the darkness. Two henchmen had gone ahead and now you were waiting for their return to better organize the attack. The group seemed excited to be able to shed blood again. Once the two men joined you again, Joe provided the clues for the attack. The group would be split to attack from each corner. The hunt began, and Daryl and you joined the darkness and hurried away from those bastards. You ran, avoiding the bushes, taking care not to fall. A shot brought a herd of crows into the sky, flying fast across the clearing. You stopped suddenly and clung to a tree to catch your breath but the archer waved to you as you weren't allowed to lose any time. Every minute was precious.

With breathlessness and a hand on your chest, you tried to speak: "We have to go back...", you coughed: "These people..."

"These people ain't our problem!", he shouted.

"But Daryl, they-..."

He ran to you and grabbed you by the long sleeve of your shirt.

"They signed their own deaths 'nd killed those people.", he said impatiently. "Let's move."

He tore you a few feet further, but stubbornly you tried again. You couldn't accept the idea that these bastards hurt other people.

"Daryl wait!", you shouted: "We have to help them!"

"We can't save 'em, damn it!", he barked, "I thought ya' understood that by now!"

You hit his wrist and he immediately turned around and let go. With a quick gesture, you took the bag out of his hand and ran like a madman. You opened the zipper and pulled out a rifle and threw the bag over to the side of the road and emerged from the tree-lined ocean to rest your legs on the asphalt. You saw a pick-up truck and Joe's men with guns. Daryl patted your neck and motioned for you not to talk while he put his index finger to his lips. You walked slowly on the road. This would have been easier for you to surprise. Joe chattered about revenge and as soon as he saw you he motioned for you to come closer. The men made room to give you the sight of their prey. But as soon as you could see their faces, you petrified. Joe's words were muffled by your ears, you were trapped in a trance. There, on the ground and with weapons pointed to their heads, three people knelt, of whom you had hoped to find them alive. Your heart leaped with joy in your chest, though the situation was not the best. But at the same time you were grateful that you persisted so much with Daryl. If you hadn't returned, Rick, Michonne and Carl would have died without mercy. You needed to act quickly before they found out you were on their side. You looked at Daryl, who was anxious to get an idea, but he took a few steps forward, incredulous and upset to see part of his family again.

"Joe... These 're good people.", he said in a voice that sounded slightly weak.

Joe looked at you and the archer, then at his prey. He smiled. You knew he was just pretending because he had fallen into his character.

"These 'good' people have killed our companions.", he growled: "And you know... If there's something I hate, it's liars."

At the end of the sentence, some men threw themselves at Daryl to attack him, and Michonne took advantage of the situation to grab the pistol aimed at them and shoot their attacker. Everything happened as fast as in a movie. You fired at two men who beat Daryl and injured another who approached Carl. The sheriff moved and killed another man, but he was blocked by Joe. Michonne took care of the last two and you threw yourself to Daryl to help him get up. You stood motionless in front of Rick and Joe and didn't know how to behave. Suddenly, the sheriff stormed toward his enemy, sinking his teeth in his throat as if he was emulating the folly of a beast. Nobody moved, suffocated and surprised by his aggressive action, but you ran to separate them. And so you separated them and hit your elbows in Rick's stomach so he opened his jaw again. Joe fell to the ground, forcibly squeezing the wound with both hands. He was bleeding heavily, but fortunately you had managed to hold Rick back in time. Michonne pointed the gun at you and Rick did the same. Daryl scolded you and did not understand your reaction. After all, you didn't know why you had acted that way too... Maybe because you had hoped that Joe had told the truth that despite everything he would keep a spark of kindness. Maybe you wanted to give him a second chance or maybe you just went crazy. You moved to Joe, who complained of severe pain.

"What the hell is this?", Michonne threatened. "Which side are you on?"

"The killing should stop!", you protested.

"That asshole wanted to kill us!", Rick shouted angrily. "Get away from him!"

"Rick, wait, this guy acted the same way as you did. You killed some of his men and he persecuted you to avenge them... If some people killed Carl or Michonne, wouldn't you have done the same?"

The sheriff looked at you without answering. You had hoped he would calm down. After all, Joe would now be left alone, he had no company anymore. He wouldn't be a leader anymore. And if he lied, no one would hesitate to execute him later if you made a mistake.

"Why are you protecting him?", the sheriff asked.

"Because I saw something in him..."

"I know what ya' 've seen!", Daryl interrupted suddenly and everyone turned to the archer and misunderstood his words, while Rick stared at you without lowering his weapon. Daryl was getting angry and realized that you didn't want to give up didn't understand your reasons.

"That son of a bitch raped her!", he declared angrily.

Michonne's eyes widened and asked for confirmation. You lowered your head, feeling discouraged. Daryl didn't need to reveal the incident, you did not want others to know about it. Your silence confirmed the archers words, and Carl and Michonne looked at you alarmingly.

"And after what he did to you...", the sheriff said: "You have the courage to defend him?"

You realized that this was a completely abnormal situation, but your former companion had sorely believed in your mind that people still kept a spark of goodness. You had not forgiven Joe. Abuse can't be forgotten or accepted. But you could go on, you did not want to play the role of the victim. You did not want the group to see you weak. Joe and Rick both acted as leaders. Obviously they were not like the usual acts, but there was no difference to a vengeful plan. But maybe you asked too much, maybe you had to realize that nothing was more reasonable. You looked resigned to Rick without raising objections, and he immediately moved the barrel of the gun to Joe and fired. You didn't turn to look at the body of this man, nor did you move. You just saw a pool of blood next to your feet. Rick reached for his machete and approached the man you had injured to free Carl. He lifted it and pierced his abdomen. Not quite satisfied, he pushed the blade up and reached the side. He literally opened him in two without emitting any emotion. Michonne hugged the boy. Even Rick had changed. Joe was right, this reality is plagiarizing you all...

~

The dusk made the slaughter visible at your feet. The blood had smeared the whole area, including the car and Rick. Michonne and Carl had climbed onto the truck and rested. She tried to reassure the boy, who was shocked by his father's violent reactions and the man who had tried to touch him. However, Daryl and the sheriff were shoulder to shoulder, sitting on the ground with their backs to the car. The archer handed him a red cloth and told the sheriff to wipe away the dried blood on his face. You were happy for them, happy that they were reunited. But you knew that you were superfluous, so you wanted to give them the space they deserved. You now sat by the side of the road and rummaged in the bag you had hidden. You took out your weapons and finally got ready with them. Now that a part of the group had reunited, you felt the consciousness growing in you that there was no place for you. Soon the day would come when you should say goodbye and continue on your own way, but in truth you hoped it wouldn't happen. You've missed them, been an idiot, crazy to stop Rick from killing that man, that bastard. Of course, you had learned nothing from your mistakes, maybe Daryl was right, you were still a child, despite the age and all the shit you had to digest. But that didn't matter now, you had to learn to think before you acted instead of finding yourself full of remorse. The fact is, Joe appeared honest to you when he told you about fictions. Looking through the bag, you reached for the notebook, which you had stolen from one of the walkers who had tried to kill you. You flipped through the pages and avoided reading the past life. As soon as you saw a picture of a child, you dropped it 'cause you've been too emotional lately... You wouldn't have allowed Daryl or the others to see you cry. But when you looked down to pick up this object, you noticed another calligraphy. The notebook had opened on the last pages, so you could read now through some torn pages and another ink:

'I had a pen in the house but not a piece of paper to write on, not that I felt the need. Excuse me, Mister, when I use your notebook because I want to remember who she is. I have now created a small room, so I will not forget. Of course, these pages could be destroyed, but at least I'm trying, right? Actually, I feel like a complete idiot now. Writing is not my strength. I thought several times about whether to leave it. But my story, my past has nothing interesting and I find it almost useless to have to remember it. Well, I decided to talk about something. Anyone who reads these lines will think that a terrible and unhappy story is waiting for him, but he is wrong. To be honest, I'm happy now. And no, I'm not crazy... At least not yet. Maybe I'm lucky, but I had a chance to meet a lot of people, but none of them is like her. A week ago, a woman came to my house... A woman I already met, but in comical circumstances, very friendly, let's say.'

A lump in your throat insisted that you close the notebook, but your hands held that object.

'Her name is Y/N, that's all I know. Well, I know little and actually almost nothing about her. But when I'm close to her, I feel weird. Things are going well between us, we are working together peacefully.'

A crack in the page, missing parts...

'I probably went crazy, but I think I love her. Or somehow... I'm not a genius with feelings, but I feel like I want to spend as much time with her as possible. This situation seems absurd, but I will not mention it. I will only try to give her happy days as much as I can. I really hope that at least on these pages full of ink, I can leave traces of myself.'

Your fingers trembled and released the notebook. You pulled your knees up to your chest and thousand thoughts came to your mind. You felt like an idiot, you condemned yourself with your own hands. These words began to beat inside you, colliding with your throbbing heart in your chest. He loved you... The guy you got that plaid shirt from wanted to make you happy, even though he knew little. You smiled, but in reality it was a grimace of pain. You were able to deny any emotion so that you could always avoid feeling affection. But you have thought of this man too often. Maybe something had escaped you, maybe this time you were not able to understand yourself. You had always been careful to shield yourself and keep other people away. But maybe you let yourself go then. You had allowed him to see other sides of you.

"May I?", a voice asked behind you. But you did not answer, you were so focused on this notebook. Someone sat on your left and as soon as you saw some curls, you realized it was the sheriff. That surprised you.

"I'm glad to see you.", he said, as if it was an effort to admit it.

"Are you really sure about that?", you asked without looking at him.  
He coughed a bit and put his arms on his knees.

"Tell me, because you're the one who beat me.", he replied, smiling.

You turned around and apologized with your eyes and he motioned for you to stop thinking, it was all forgotten. You didn't expect to see him so peaceful, not after the murderous rage. But probably Daryl had given him a piece of hope.

"Terminus.", you sighed: "It looks like a good place."

Rick looked at his bloodied hands.

"Yeah, it seems like a good place.", he repeated in a hoarse voice: "We'll go there."

Your eyes lit up.

"And Daryl?", you asked: "What does he think?"

Rick turned to face him and noticed that Daryl was staring at you both as well.

"He agrees."

You smiled in disbelief, but not too much. It was obvious that Daryl had accepted the sheriff's suggestion. Rick was his only point of reference. Maybe they even had a brotherly connection. Then suddenly Daryl's hand was resting on your shoulder, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"Y/N...", he said sadly: "I'm sorry."

You immediately looked at Daryl, who quickly lowered his head. That apology was enough for you to understand that he had already talked about everything by telling what had happened. You didn't add anything to his words, you only nodded while Rick got up and handed you his hand. You trusted him blindly, same with his nature and way of thinking. He felt no grudge against you, now it wasn't even necessary. Everything had collapsed and it was up to you all to reassemble the parts. There was no room for the past. You had to look ahead and create a new future.


	19. Chapter 19

Same environment, same trees, same rails. Describing what you felt seems almost impossible. You were safe. After a long time, you were finally safe. You had no reason to be wary except for the walkers that occasionally came out of the forest. You had no reason to hide weapons, you had no reason to be afraid or to open your mouth. You were not afraid to be yourself. Rick had accepted me and you were relieved. But Daryl put a lot of paranoia in your head after your last conversation on the roof. But fortunately he was wrong... Michonne didn't seem to like my company very much. To be honest, you didn't get along that well, but you needed to get used to it. Carl moved closer to you, but he controlled every gesture of his father. You would have walked for miles without stopping, happy to have found them. But wouldn't have gone to Daryl to tell him the words: "I told you.", because the most important thing was that you were together. You had taken this notebook with you before leaving the street. You would have done everything not to lose this object.

"Do you want some?", Carl suddenly asked you and you looked down to see what he was offering you. A chocolate bar.

"You're still asking?", you smiled, grabbing it and Carl smiled at you.

"Half-half?", you added. As if you had said some obscenity, Carl backed away and turned his head away.

"I have enough, trust me, I still have a pound of pudding in my stomach."

Unfortunately you had to surrender to the hunting, the squirrels and the birds that came within reach. Carl realized that you had been jealous for a thousandth of a second. After all, Michonne had a bag full of snacks and various delicacies. They had surely robbed a house, maybe those little houses you had seen with Joe's group.

"We were lucky with the food...", he confessed.

"Did you find it immediately?", you asked, looking at Michonne. You saw something in the boy's eyes, almost like gratitude. It was clear he had a good relationship with this woman.

"Kinda...", he answered and smiled. "Were you alone when we were separated?"

You looked at him for a moment before answering: "I was alone for a short time, then I always had someone with me.", you said calmly. "I met a good man and I enjoyed that short time. Although I was always worried about you all."

Carl looked at you with his eyes, like his father. He was no child anymore.

"This man... Is he now...?", he has formulated. He rightly felt uncomfortable, he did not know how to ask you questions or what words to use so as not to hurt you.

"This group... They found us and they killed him right in front of me.", you continued: "Then... Well, you know the rest."

There was a minute's silence, nor did you dare to add anything.

"The important thing is that we have found each other now...", he said: "And probably there will be others at Terminus."

You slapped him on the shoulder and simulated a fist. Just to create a good atmosphere.

"We will surely find this place.", you said.

You giggled and confined yourselves so as not to let others hear you. It was liberating. But Daryl glared at you, in fact you laughed even more. Michonne turned around and smiled too. You had never seen her laugh before, it was strange... For the first time she had shown you these perfect white teeth and you returned that gesture. You knew that Carl's laugh could melt his father's heart. Anyway, you were together again and returned to the routine of that time. Terminus seemed unattainable. But if you looked at the map, maybe just one more day was missing. You hoped with every fiber of your body, or rather, you prayed, even though weren't a believer, that this wasn't a trap. The group deserved a truce, a moment of unification. There was no room for another threat. After a few hours you reached another formerly inhabited area. A small residential area. You made an exploration of the place and Rick pointed to a house that he thought was the most stable and secure. On the roof were solar panels, this meant the presence of hot water. It had a high lattice along the perimeter to demarcate the garden that sheltered it. The walkers couldn't reach you for the time being. You went in through a back door and you parted to explore the house that you would occupy for the night. Upstairs Daryl and you left while Rick and Carl stayed downstairs. Michonne took care of the basement. You slowly climbed the stairs and held your weapons ready to shoot. You were standing in front of a long corridor decorated with many doors. You moved to the left, pressed the door handle, laid your hand on that dark, certainly valuable wood, and led the door in that slow motion to inspect the interior with ease. No walkers... But comics, posters, consoles, everything was scattered without any logical order. You did the same with the other rooms. It had to be a big family because there were many bedrooms. All drawers were open and some clothes lay on the floor. The family in question had tried to escape... In fact, there was no car in the garage. After the inspection, you gathered down in front of the entrance. None of you had met a walker. You were lucky. Lately things have gone well. You had hoped that this wouldn't leave soon.

Rick suddenly pointed to the kitchen chamber: "There are some supplies.", he said: "Some things have expired and some things have not."

"I've found many shelves full of other foods, all canned. We could survive for months.", Michonne added.

Rick put his arms on his sides, looked around and smiled. "It went well.", he said, placing a hand on his son's head and ruffling his hair.

"It'll be dark in a few hours.", Daryl explained. "I would say we're gettin' ready for the night."

So you all went upstairs and looked at the house with different eyes. Not suspicious or worried, but as if you wanted to admire it. You pointed to the first room you checked and told Carl to go inside.

"You'll like it.", you whispered and winked. He went into the room, curious to find what he had hoped for.

You meanwhile went to a random room. It was spacious and very bright. You opened a drawer and hoped to find clean clothes. The pants weren't your size, but some tank tops would have been enough. The house had three bathrooms, which means you didn't need to fight for a shower. After walking through the other rooms, you might have found pants of your size. You threw yourself on this soft mattress shortly thereafter. A large chandelier hung on the ceiling. What a luxury. Tonight you would all have slept in a bed, in a real bed. Everyone in his room, each with his own privacy. These are details that count, even when it makes no sense anymore. But the door suddenly opened and you sat up. Daryl came in without saying anything and went to the window. He pulled the curtains aside and looked out, as if searching for something. Then he spoke as if he had read your mind.

"I go 'round to see which room 's more view.", he explained. You lay down again and sank into the pillow.

"You have to sleep.", you answered.

Rick appeared in the room and after looking at the fittings, he too opened his mouth.

"I'd rather sleep on the couch tonight.", he announced. "If someone else comes in, I'll wake up right away."

"Only for this night?", you repeated.

"I thought we could stay here for two days because of safety, the way to Terminus requires more effort than it actually needs.", he explained, massaging his beard.

"Another day makes no difference.", the archer added dryly. You just nodded. Another day to rest would have helped your destroyed bodies. It wouldn't have been a problem. In fact, you understood the sheriff's idea very well. Two days, the right to enjoy the tranquility of this place. You definitely didn't mind. The sound of water made you understand that Michonne was already in the shower. This immediately gave you the need for a nice warm bath. You wanted to get rid of the dirt, the fatigue, the dust, the earth. But above all, these memories. These scenes...

As Rick left you sat on the edge of the bed and looked at your face in the wall mirror. Daryl appeared in the reflection and stood beside you. You looked away from that glassy surface and laid it on the archer, who reached out a hand. A wild strawberry.

"Found another one on the way.", he said abruptly and you took her and touched his fingers.

"Is that your way of apologizing?", you asked before enjoying this sweet fruit. He snorted and left without answering, pulling his crossbow behind him.

You then took a top, went to the bathroom next to your room and let the water run until it became lukewarm. In the meantime, as you waited for the tub to fill, you undressed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, noticing a shadow of the old bruises left by the Governor. Your wrists healed, only thin lines remained. Then you dipped into this transparent liquid, held your breath and sat down completely. It was a good feeling to be underwater, it was like being transported to another world, to another dimension. Resurfacing, you stayed in that position for at least ten minutes. Immobile, without thinking. This normal action, though rare for those times, reminded you of the past. Home, family... These were details like these, details of a lost life that could plunge you into the deepest depression. You don't know how much time you spent in this bathroom, but apparently so long to worry others. Someone knocked on the door when you were already wrapped in a big towel.

"Is everything alright?", Michonne asked.

"Yes.", you reassured her: "I'll come to you all soon."

You put on new clothes quickly and went on your way. When you went to the living room, you found everyone gathered around a table. They sat on the sofa and armchairs and were busy devouring some of their food.

"Don't you mind eating just this stuff?", you asked Rick, laughing. He raised his head and laughed at himself. "If you want I can try to cook something!"

Michonne immediately put her can on the table. "Y/N is right.", she said: "Let's take a look at the things in the kitchen."

You followed her and examined the various possible ingredients. You found a pack of dried pasta, some spaghetti, and Michonne smiled at you and waved a bottle of tomato paste. Carl leaned on the back of the sofa.

"Pasta!", he cheered.

Daryl spoke without looking at you and then chewed on.

"Maybe there ain't no gasoline for a car.", he said sullenly.

Carl lowered his head in disappointment. In fact, you all acted that way, including Rick and you. But Michonne laughed and tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter.

"Don't be so grumpy!", she shouted: "In the basement is gasoline, we just need a car..."

You rejoiced in unison, all except Daryl, who apparently didn't care. You didn't ask him why, you would rather ignore it.

~

The fireplace irradiated the room and dispelled the darkness of the night. Since you didn't find many candles, you decided to arrange them logically. The room would have been lit by the fire you had lit by using some boxes and old newspapers in the garage. One candle was in the kitchen and two in the hallway above. The last candles you would have in the bathrooms and bedrooms. Meanwhile, you were stretched out on the luxurious leather sofas, happy with a full stomach. You started talking as if you were lifelong friends, ready to remember old times. After a while, however, the silence had enveloped you and accompanied you into a state of rest. More words would have been superfluous. You enjoyed this peace, this source of warmth, company and a safe place. Usually, this calm brought only bad memories to the surface and made you forget almost all the good old moments. You focused on preserving the moment, hoping that you could still feel the emotions in the future. Suddenly you realized that it was time to lie down in your beds, so you reached our rooms. You put the wax candle on the table beside the bed so that it brightened the room, but not too much. Next to the bed, you saw a book, an object you had missed at first sight. You took it without even reading the title on the cover and threw yourself on the bed that you longed for so much. You quickly flipped through the pages and brought them closer to your face so you could smell them. It was like jumping into the past. You held the paper product firmly on your chest and had no intention of reading, though it was a habit you had overlooked. You felt different emotions, you were literally euphoric. And you knew you couldn't sleep but it didn't matter. Nevertheless, you would have rested on this comfortable bed and surrounded yourself with the darkness from outside, which seemed so comforting to you now. You watched the fragile flame of the candle, which swung from time to time. The wax was consumed slowly and turned away from the contact of this heat. An hour had passed and sleep hadn't caught up with you yet. So you took the candle and looked at the corridor. No light flooded Carl's door, so he was already asleep. The same goes for Michonne. Instead, Daryl's was wide open. As soon as you were around the corner, you met someone and fell to the ground as you collided with the person.

"Watch where ya' go.", Daryl said, helping you up. You saw that he went into the living room and followed him curiously. When the fire allowed you to see it completely, you noticed that he held glass bottles in his hand and shook your head in disbelief. At that moment, the archer turned and noticed your gesture.

"What?", he asked: "I knew that I would find alcohol in the basment."

Rick waved to you. Apparently you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep.

"Rich people always have the best alcohol.", Daryl added, leaping onto the sofa in a completely disordered manner. After he had occupied most of the sofa and the Sheriff was on the other side, you sat on a chair so as not to disturb anyone. You crouched as comfortably as possible on the object and rested your chin on your knees.

"I thought as soon as I put my damn ass in the bed I would fall asleep or into a coma.", you said, staring at the fire.

"Wouldn't talk 'bout a coma in the presen' of our cowboy.", Daryl warned you and opened a bottle of whiskey. Curious, you turned to the sheriff, who handed his friend a glass with a grimace.

"Long story.", he replied. They touched each other's glasses and clearly ignored you. The sheriff noticed your eyes watching the void and leaned over the table to get a glass for you.

"What 're ya' doin'?", Daryl asked annoyed.

"A glass for Y/N, to drink...", Rick replied, filling the glass.

"Well then.", he replied still annoyed.

You drank this drink in one gulp without batting an eyelid. Daryl mumbled something through clenched teeth and before you could ask him, Rick made an explanation.

"It's just a little distraction."

"Maybe you're right...", you admitted.  
Alcohol wouldn't have helped you in case of danger. You had to keep a clear head and full control of your actions. Your bodies absorbed this substance more quickly than usual.

"First ya' challenge me 'nd then ya' don't want to anymore.", Daryl replied: "Typical for those who already know how to lose."

"You're wrong."

"Proof it!", he demanded.

You stared at each other. It was really impossible to get along. There was a constant conflict between you.

"Are you really going to get drunk?", the sheriff asked, as if to blame you.

"What difference would it make?", Daryl asked: "Ya' said yerself that we're safe here."

"I'm worried about our people.", Rick admitted.

And he was right. Daryl and you looked at each other and prepared to raise the white flag for at least that night, but Rick took the words he had just said back.

"But maybe we could lower our guard for a few hours..."

The challenge was accepted and projected you and Daryl in the figure of dog and cat. You knew that Rick had trouble, but it was nice to see that he wanted to try anyway, he wanted to try to allow himself a few happy moments without fear. You clinked your glasses, raised your arms and your throat was soaked with this drink. After the third bottle, you remember that most of the whiskey landed on the floor as you tried to fill the glasses. Rick often put his glass in front of his face, laughed and hid behind the object as if you couldn't see him. Daryl gestured indiscriminately. With all the noise it seemed impossible to believe that Carl and Michonne didn't wake up, but nobody came to you. Therefore, you continued undisturbed to fill the stomach with alcohol. By now it had become a real challenge, though none of you was clear enough to realize you had already passed the limit.

"Ya' goin' to collapse.", Daryl stammered: "Give up while ya' can."

You took another sip before countering: "You'll be the one who will sleep on the floor in the end!"

"I bet on Y/N!", the sheriff chuckled.

At that moment, you realized how beautiful and spontaneous his laughter was.

"What 'n asshole!", Daryl grumbled. "We should support each other!"

"Under these conditions, you would never be able to!", you said, explaining the obvious.

Your neck ached, but you didn't have the strength to change your position. You focused on the two men, limiting yourself to looking at them as if you were in a theater. You saw that they were talking, but at that moment you couldn't concentrate on the words, thus losing the meaning of the speech. You only realized that you were grinning all the time.

"She's gone!", Daryl said to Rick, laughing.

In fact, you were just happy with that beautiful moment, if you can call it that.

"You would like that, right?", you protested against it, pulling yourself up with difficulty.

Daryl tried to get up too, but as soon as he stood he dropped back onto the couch. Rick pointed to him and shook his head. But Daryl tried again, stubborn, as if he had done everything to show that he was clearer than both of you, especially you. This time he was standing on his own feet, although they didn't move normally, but rather wavered a bit uncertainly over the steps.

"I've to piss.", he murmured, standing now near the bathroom.

Rick calmly lay down on the couch and now had much more space. You played around with the glass, turned it over and handed it from one hand to the other and asked yourself a question. Although Rick couldn't see you, across from the fireplace, you spoke, staring at his wavy hair.

"I'm glad I met you and found you again. What did you think at that moment?"

He cleared his throat and was about to start talking when Daryl reappeared in the living room.

"Didn't even remember what a toilet looks like.", he said.

"This place isn't bad, it looks like a small neighborhood that was abandoned from the start, as if these wealthy families had decided to vacate the area. And we could also check the other houses.", Rick said.

"What if we settle here?", you suggested.

"I hope you're joking.", the sheriff replied.

"Bullshit.", Daryl added and grabbed the bottle again: "Did ya' forget the others already?"

"We absolutely have to go to Terminus.", Rick repeated.

A terrible nausea forced you to wait a few minutes before continuing with the speech. You were afraid that opening your mouth would throw all your dinner on the table.

"I meant just in case. If it's not a good hideaway, as we imagined and if we won't get along with these people..."

"No.", the sheriff answered dryly. "It is not safe enough."

Daryl said nothing and continued to drink from the bottle. Suddenly the atmosphere was tense again and you did not want to make things worse. When Rick said no, there was little to discuss.

"It will be difficult to find another safe place like the prison.", you admitted.

"But we'll find it.", the sheriff said, pouring another glass of whiskey in.

The prison had been a godsend... You had nothing but hope for a shelter, and in the meantime, your body started with a bad reaction to the amount of ingested alcohol, which caused you relentless nausea and dizzying headache. You knew that if you tried to run, you would instantly land on the floor, even though you had a terrible need to go to the bathroom. Your kidneys would probably implode, but you would have resisted to avoid the victory of Daryl, who certainly wouldn't have relinquished your defeat more than once. But your efforts didn't do much, on the contrary they just delayed what you wanted to control...

Suddenly your mouth was filled with a bitter, annoying taste. You fought against yourself, against your own body. You did not want to vomit. Daryl would have mocked you endlessly. Rick rubbed his temples now and grimaced. He too had probably reached the limit.

"I think I'm going to bed.", the sheriff said, holding onto the wall. You forced yourself and tried to emulate Rick by pretending to go to the bathroom.

"I need to go to the bathroom...", you announced uncertainly. But your vision clouded for a moment, predicting what would happen.

"Ya' sure ya' can do it? Ya' don't seem very stable to me.", Daryl said, sounding worried to your surprise.

As soon as those words reached your ears, you had no time to counter because your head counterattacked and broke through your defense...


	20. Chapter 20

You knew that your stomach was finally clear and yet you were confused by the pain. You couldn't understand how you could get into the bathroom. You've never reacted so badly to alcohol. But you weren't alone. You realized that you had no hair in front of your face, which meant someone held it. Whoever it was, he pushed you straight away.

"Are ya' done?", Daryl scolded.

After a few tries and some effort, you finally managed to get up, though due to the dizziness you couldn't be 100% stable.

"Ya' 're pathetic.", he added.

He was sitting on the edge of the tub, but you guessed he wasn't much clearer than you. To your surprise, he fell in and slammed his head against the wall tiles. You smiled after seeing the scene in the mirror.

"You're pathetic.", you repeated.

"Shut up!", he grumbled insulted: "I've been sittin' here for an hour like I'm yer fuckin' babysitter!"

You narrowed your eyes and were looking for some relief. Since you had laid down meanwhile, your dizziness improved. Much of the drunkenness was gone, but you were still slightly drunk, but at least you could talk.

"I wonder every day if you've always been such an asshole."

Normally he was stubborn, but drunk he was worse. He countered, but changed his mind quickly and moved away again. You stared at him and couldn't help but smile. You found him funny in every little gesture. You disturbed him, and yet he hadn't left you alone, he stood there and did nothing just to be with you when you needed someone or when you felt bad.

"Have you always been like this?", you asked again, shyly.

"No.", he replied with his head down: "I was worse, a piece of shit 'nd a selfish bastard."

You could barely believe those words, but after his expression, you realized he was suffering. You didn't ask for explanations because the past had little meaning now. It was strange to see him like this, stretched out in a comfortable position. But now he was stunned by alcohol and seemed to care about nothing but to look at you or look grumpy.

"Do ya' 've to look at me like that dumb?", he asked.

"No, I think you're funny."

He looked at you confused, surprised and irritated at the same time. Maybe nobody had ever called him that, or at least no one had dared to admit it aloud. So he snorted without saying another word and hid behind his hair.

"And ya' 're stupid." he said after five minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Ya' 're always smilin', talkin' 'bout a future, ya' think things 're goin' to change. Wake up! Terminus will just be another piece of shit we'll add to our collection."

"I just want to be optimistic, just enough not to go crazy.", you said.

"That's the point! Ya' should've freaked out. Instead, ya' 're as cold as a damn stone. I didn't see any reaction. First this asshole that died by yer side. Ya' 've lost everythin' as well 'nd Joe 'nd his people, they've-...", Daryl started to speak but you interrupted him.

"That's enough!", you screamed, slamming your palm into his face. You slapped him instinctively without realizing it, as if you wanted to block those words that would have undermined you inside. You didn't want to hear anything else, you didn't want him to finish this sentence. If you hadn't had the alcohol in your body, you wouldn't have reacted this way, you would have just reacted neutrally. At that moment, however, you were unable to digest these speeches. You were more susceptible and emotionally unstable than normal. You stood with your hand held shut to look at him with reproach and rage. Daryl said nothing and stepped out of the tub.

"Dare it again 'nd I swear ya' ain't alive the next mornin'!", he yelled angrily.

"Fuck you!", you only answered.

He then left the bathroom and slammed the door. You now crouched in a fetal position and laid your face on this smooth surface. Daryl couldn't understand or imagine what you felt or who you really are. It's true, you didn't show anything, you hid everything. It wasn't your intention to be a victim, to be treated differently or treated with care. You pretended that nothing had hurt you, that nothing had destroyed you, though you were practically bleeding in your soul. Unfortunately, these unprepared words had already infiltrated you and made your feel uncomfortable, resulting in a hysterical scream. You tried desperately to hold yourself back, but you didn't suppress the sobs. You processed all the weight you had put on your shoulders and falsely believed that it was quite difficult and you were capable of such stamina. Drowned in those salty tears, tapping in this ocean of despair and agony... You had let yourself go. Finally, after a long time, you have freed yourself. Slowly, your abdomen ached from involuntary tears, causing the sobbing to end and causing very severe headaches. However, you stayed in that position for a long time, without moving a finger to dry your cheeks. Although you felt terribly weak and broken, you decided to get up. You wouldn't have allowed yourself to sleep in the tub after finally finding reasonable beds. You sat there, frowning, hoping the dizziness would fade a little. Suddenly the door slowly opened and pulled with it a cumbersome creak. Daryl appeared leaning against the edge in front of you. On the floor you noticed another empty bottle.

"Finally ya' 're calm.", he hissed: "I'd rather 've my ears torn off."

You didn't look at him and remained apathetic to his words. If you had said something wrong, you would have had the unfortunate pleasure of discovering a very aggressive side of Daryl. So it was better to be quiet.

"Did a walker eat yer tongue?", he asked annoyed.

So you got up and tried not to lose your balance. But after a few steps you fell again. You were dehydrated and had nothing left in your stomach, you had rejected every fragment of food you had swallowed and lost the energy. Your body asked for mercy. You had to lie down. The archer hurried to you and held you tight.

"Daryl, I-...", you said, trying to apologize for what had happened.

Despite the situation, this was the first thing you had thought about.

"Shut up.", he countered and took you in his arms. You crossed the threshold of the bathroom and headed for the stairs. Daryl kicked at the bottles, obstructing the path, and took those steps with no sign of exertion.

"I don't feel so good.", he murmured, revealing the obvious, in fact, you didn't answer and confined yourself to appearing in what your room should have been but you heard a light snore.

"Rick collapsed in the first bed he found.", he snorted.

He walked carefully through the corridor and it was completely dark. The candles were long out. You went to another room and he laid you gently on the bed.

"Try to sleep on the side, ya' could choke if ya' fall asleep when ya' vomit on yer back."

"Yes, okay...", you mumbled and your eyelids became heavy.

You had to make an effort to keep your eyes open. He looked at you with a strange expression and you saw that he was still a little confused, but his good side had prevailed. He put his hand on your forehead and worriedly moved your hair out of your face before you lost your senses.

A sound made you step out of this state of unconsciousness and wake up in bed, as if threatened. Everything seemed confusing. A faint light came through the windows, making the room comfortable and suitable for another nap. You turned in the direction of the sound heard and as soon as you opened your mouth, Michonne put a finger to your lips.

"Stay quiet.", she advised you in a low voice, pointing with her eyes into the corner of the room. "He was awake all night."

You watched what her iris had suggested to you and noticed that Daryl collapsed in a chair. Meanwhile, Michonne put a tray on the bedside table and handed you a glass of water.

"You have to drink a lot and I've brought you a chocolate bar that will quickly give you your energy back.", she added in a low tone hoping that the archer wouldn't wake up. She smiled at you and raised her eyebrows with a wink while you were shaking your head in disbelief. Daryl had been polite before, then an asshole and then nice again. It was useless to ask for explanations whenever he reacted badly or ruminated your actions as if it was all your fault. It was enough to be patient and to accept him for what he was. Michonne waved you that she would be back later and left the room on tiptoe. You tried to pull yourself up a bit to sit with your back against the headboard from the bed. In this position, you could see the archer better. He seemed so harmless... You poured yourself another glass of water, but finally you clung to the bottle. You didn't know how thirsty you actually are. Your head hurt and you were cold, you probably had a fever and it must have been high. So you checked your body for an infected wound. It could be an infection and that would have been a big problem. You saw two pills on the tray and took them without batting an eyelid. The antibiotics would lower your fever. You ate the chocolate bar very slowly and avoided irritating noises. At the third bite Daryl stirred his cold eyes in your direction. He got up and opened the window so he could watch the sun and mumbled something. Probably he hadn't slept much. He came closer to put his hand back on your forehead, but when he saw you holding the blanket up, he stopped at the end of the bed.

"Have ya' taken medication yet?", he asked, stretching himself.

"Yes, a few antibiotics."

"I exclude an infection.", he confirmed with confidence, reaching for the crossbow next to the chair.

"The next time ya' want to ruin my evenin', let me know.", he said and left.

You ate the chocolate, drowned the worry in the sugar and tried to get up, still wrapped in the blanket over your shoulders. You weren't allowed to stop the group if you all wanted to reach Terminus... A short while later, walking down the corridor, you entered your own room. The bed was empty so you decided to change clothes. When you reached the kitchen, you found Michonne, who threw something in a bag and Carl was busy eating something.

"How are you? Did you eat?", she asked, raising her head.

"I'm feeling better, thanks."

You looked around for Daryl and Rick, but there was no sign of them.

"How much better? Did you take the pills?"

"Yes, I have, and at least I have the strength to get up."

"So ya' made us waste medication.", Daryl grumbled, slamming the front door.

"We couldn't know!", Michonne replied angrily: "It's better to play it safe."

"Now we know it.", replied the archer.

You were about to answer when Michonne waved you over.

"Is the area safe?", Carl suddenly asked.

"The part I checked? Yes. We're waitin' for yer father to return."

Suddenly some shots echoed, as well as alarm systems in the neighborhood, in an area not far from your position. You looked at each other questioningly what to do and without opening your mouths, you hurriedly packed your bags as Rick came into the house and was bleeding.

"We have to go immediately!", he shouted: "A herd!"

"Dad, what did you do with your arm?", Carl asked and Daryl ran out of the house and aimed his crossbow.

A herd of walkers was looking for a few cars. Rick had activated the alarms.

"We've to hurry as long as they're distracted!", urged Daryl.

Hurriedly, Rick picked up some supplies and headed back down the street, ready to show you the way you needed to go. Carl followed him, hoping his father would answer the question. Michonne and you looked at each other with a veil of bitterness. It was a shame to leave these walls, because who knows how long it would have taken to reach an equally comfortable and well-structured location. You swallowed and urged yourself to make it. You would have to put a lot of distance between you and the herd. When you were far enough away, Michonne protested that you should stop running. It seemed strange to ask for a break, a few minutes to catch your breath, because she wasn't the type. In fact, when she came close to you, you understood that she hadn't demanded that for herself, but for you.

"Do you think you can do it?", she whispered to you. Rick appeared and looked around, startled and ready to attack. You were safe now, but the sheriff didn't seem to be sure. After all, it was understandable, you never could be sure...

"I'm fine.", you replied: "There's nothing to worry about."

Carl raised his father's sleeve. A large amount of blood slid down his forearm, turning his hand red and impregnating the fabric.

"It's nothing.", he told his son reassuringly, as Carl pulled a bandage out of the top pocket of his backpack and pulled out a disinfectant at the same time, leaving Rick motionless, studying the clearing and letting his arm dangle so that the boy would clean it with care.

"Couldn't you break the windows differently?", Carl asked.

"Yes, after that."

Rational and conscientious as he was, he sometimes knew he sounded like a madman. Meanwhile, Daryl emerged with a sure step out of the dense vegetation.

"If we want to stop, we won't 've any problems here, at least not now.", he ordered.

"No.", the sheriff replied: "I'd like to arrive in Terminus before the night, and we'll take a break later."

"Rick, it would be better to come back to our full strength if we have to fight or flee.", Michonne said.

The sheriff nodded but continued his journey. So you continued to walk on this dry ground. You had become accustomed to the long, quiet moments, albeit in company. Still, you could barely keep up, but showed no sign of yielding, emulating your companions and showing a natural serenity. After a few hours, you joined Rick after you noticed his relaxation.

"Is everything alright?", you asked.

He leaned to the side with a grimace as if to say: "It's not bad."...

"I was wrong, we were not allowed to stay in this house, it was not safe.", he added. This impression was in fact not given, the area was reassuring.

"If I hadn't gone outside this morning, we wouldn't have noticed the herd early enough.", he said regretfully.

"Nothin' happened 'nd we're fine, Rick.", Daryl said, sneaking into the conversation.

The two looked at each other as good friends and the silence fell between you again. Suddenly, your eyes lowered, you didn't notice that the group had stopped. You stumbled against the extended arm of the sheriff and urged yourself not to take another step.

In the distance you saw a red brick building with huge white letters: Terminus.

And you knew you had made it, you had arrived.


	21. Chapter 21

You crouched down because of fear, though quite far away. It was possible that there were men, guards. Rick threw the bag of weapons to Daryl before explaining the plan. You were excited, hoping to find the rest of the group.

“You and Y/N go and hide the weapons, we check the fence, we’re looking for another entrance.”, Rick told Daryl.

None of you smiled and tried to think objectively about the situation. In fact, you were wrong about yourselves, you just wanted to hide it. Especially, Daryl. You took opposite sides and parted. The archer walked quickly through the bushes. You could barely keep up with him, you were afraid that the nausea would get worse again. After a while Daryl stopped and examined the area. He crouched and began to dig a hole in the ground. You helped him without opening your mouth and in no time the weapons were hidden, invisible to strangers. You pulled out your knife to mark a log but Daryl stopped you.

“Want to show strangers where we hide our weapons?”, he snapped at you.

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid!”

“It’s what ya’ are.”, he replied, ignoring you.

“I would not have marked the tree with a big X. A small incision on it would be enough, nothing that anyone else would notice.”

“It’s better not to risk anythin’.”

He looked at the building of Terminus and without adding anything, he made his way to the hill. So you just followed him, reminding yourself to be patient. There was no noise coming from this side, but some pots of flowers marked the corners of the buildings and turned out to be a well-kept area. A rustle distracted you from the mission and immediately made you turn in the direction.

“Keep yer eyes open, there’s somethin’.”, Daryl said, aiming his crossbow.

“A walker?”, you asked, hearing the noise.

“No, it ain’t an inconsistent step.”, he had quickly explained to you: “Show yerself! I don’t hesitate to shoot!”

The stranger didn’t move and thought he could easily get away. Daryl, however, didn’t give up the hunt and without patiently minimizing a possible answer, he aimed it at shooting an arrow.

“Stop!”, a male voice shouted. From the sound you realized that he was afraid. The stranger came closer and made room.

“Please don’t shoot!”, he added, still hidden.

Shrubs trembled, but Daryl didn’t lower his crossbow. You had learned not to trust people anymore. These had proved to be more dangerous than the walkers. Finally, a man emerged from the forest and presented himself with his palms turned up as a sign of submission. On his belt hung a rusty machete and a flashlight, which made you realize that there was no firearm. It felt weird…

“Who ’re ya’ ‘nd why ’re ya’ followin’ us?”, Daryl asked.

The man was about 20, slim, and had fair hair. He wore a dark top and bleached pants.

“I will answer all the questions you want to ask, but please lower the weapon…”

Daryl didn’t seem to agree with the proposal at all.

“If ya’ ain’t feelin’ well, just answer!”

“Please, I do not like guns… You …”, he said and made a sign to you: “Please tell your boyfriend to take that thing down…”

The man sighed as he realized that he would never convince you. “My name is Sam… I’m alone…”, he mumbled anxiously: “I didn’t want to follow you… But I wanted to see if you’re good people.”

“Oh yes?”, Daryl asked ironically: “And what ’re we?”

Sam looked at you and hoped that you would intervene, but you let Daryl take over the situation.

“You are good people, I have no doubt!”

Daryl didn’t seem happy, but lowered the weapon anyway. This man did not seem to be dangerous at all. You wondered how he had managed to survive that long. As soon as Daryl hung the weapon over his shoulder, Sam relaxed.

“I have no bad intentions, I swear!”, he added. After saying that, Daryl set off. The problem would have been to convince Rick, but maybe he wouldn’t have problematized it any more than you had imagined. You approached the new member and patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry, but our leader needs to see you.”

“Do you want to go to Terminus too?”

You followed Daryl while maintaining a certain distance.

“Yes, we hope to find people who were part of our group.”

“I hope it’s a safe place, I’m tired of being out here.”

You heard voices, you were close to the others. Sam looked at you and asked you silently.

“A sheriff, his son, and a woman are with us.”, you told him, trying to reassure him. Rick started updating you all, but once he caught a glimpse of Sam, he stayed calm. Carl looked at you and Daryl and looked for explanations, but the only one who kept talking was Michonne.

“Who is this?”

“Sam.”, you answered. “He wants to go to Terminus.”

“I do not want to have any problems, I can even go there by myself!”, Sam suggested, raising his hands up. Rick looked at him intensely and hoped to see something in him. He then went to Daryl and mumbled something.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”, Rick asked shortly. You all looked at the sheriff in surprise, not knowing how he already knew this man.

“Ana is dead…”, Sam answered with his head down. Rick then told you how he knew this man and Sam showed you the clock he got from him back then. He belonged to a larger group and when panic broke out there, he rescued Ana when she was trampled. Since then they have been fighting alone. Rick and Carol had surprised and met them in a secluded area, in one of the houses. But Ana was eaten by walker.

“Let’s go.”, the sheriff ordered: “Follow us and accept our rules, that’s all.”

Michonne and Rick showed you the way, quietly running through nature. Carl turned around occasionally to see if Sam and you were always behind them for fear he might turn out to be a threat. But the situation remained calm. Daryl didn’t go far from you and pretended not to monitor him. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, demonstrating in practice that he controlled it and paid attention to every one of his movements and speeches. Sam realized it and understood that it was useless to argue with the archer, just ignored him and returned to you.

“How can you stay with him?”, he asked in surprise. Although Daryl stopped looking at you, you knew he was listening.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”, you said, laughing. Sam smiled as if glad to hear that. He seemed relieved.

“Oh dear God, thank you! So he will not hurt me just because I’m talking to you.” he said, laughing too. At that moment, Daryl went forward and moved away from you to reach Rick. He was offended…

“Do you think he heard me?”, Sam asked worriedly. You didn’t answer, the positive confirmation was obvious. You crouched down and gestured to Sam to do the same. Rick showed you the entrance. You didn’t see anybody nearby, although you were suspicious. You walked gracefully over the cemented place, trying to dampen the sound of your footsteps. Everything was so damn quiet. It made you believe that it was probably abandoned and thus was a disused home. But you continued the exploration, hoping to find the opposite. Daryl and Rick approached at a door. Voices came to your ears. Then you crossed the threshold, anxious but ready to kill without mercy, at the same time. You walked down an empty corridor until you reached a door. Daryl was the first to hear something.

“Sanctuary for all. Community for all.”, you heard a woman’s voice. When you entered the room, you saw a woman talking in a microphone. She sent messages by radio.

“Those who arrive survive. Terminus: Sanctuary for all. Community for all.”, she said continuously. A few yards away, at the end were desks, a huge map, and men. Rick approached the woman, too busy to notice you.

“Hello.” he said: “Hello!”

On the second greeting, he raised his voice so everyone could hear it. The woman immediately interrupted her task. She looked at you and then at Rick. Everyone looked at you, almost didn’t know how to behave. You align yourselves and formed a horizontal line. This allowed you all to see clearly. A man who spoke passed the tables until he reached you. His footsteps sounded inside the building. Since it was half empty, it was very picturesque.

“Do you want to rob us?”, he asked.

“No.”, the sheriff answered, putting the gun away. He smiled in amusement and looked at you. He had a light beard and wore a jacket over a shirt. The people behind him didn’t speak, leaving the matter to him. He had to be the boss.

“That makes sense.”, he admitted. Then, looking at his companions, he came closer. “Welcome to Terminus! My name is Gareth, it seems you’ve been on the road for a while.”

“It is like it is.”, the sheriff replied: “I’m Rick, Rick Grimes. This is Carl, Daryl, Michonne, Y/N and Sam.”

Gareth waved as if to greet you and smiled slightly. Everything seemed very quiet, maybe too much… It felt weird that they weren’t careful enough. You remained silent, waiting for them to tell you what you should do, or to ask more specific questions.

“You’re nervous, I understand it, so are we.”, Gareth giggled. “We came here to seek protection, and you?”

“Yes.”, Rick answered dryly.

“Fine.”, Gareth replied: “You found it. Alex!” A man with brown and wavy hair broke away from the silence and approached.

“This isn’t as inviting as the entrance.”, the boss said: “There’s nothing to hide here, but the welcome committee is nicer. Alex will ask you some questions now, but first we need to see your weapons.”

You didn’t answer immediately and spoke first with your eyes. Rick asked for your approval. Then he took out his weapon. You imitated him.

“I’m sure you’ll understand.”, Gareth said, attentive to the rituals.

“Yeah, sure.”, Rick calmed down, though he showed a small difference of opinion. Sam couldn’t quite hide the tension. You raised your arms and Gareth and the other man searched for other weapons.

“We’re not that kind of people.”, Gareth said: “But of course we’re not stupid, and you shouldn’t try to do stupid things. So long as that’s clear, we’ll have no problems, just solutions.”

After Alex checked us, he took the weapons one by one and gave them back with a friendly gesture. You left the room and went outside again, curious about the organization.

“How long ’s this place been?”, Daryl asked.

“Practically from the beginning, when the camps were overwhelmed, everyone came here, maybe instinctively, they followed a path, some went to the coast, others to the west or north, but we landed here.”

Suddenly you were standing in front of a kind of open space. In the middle there was a lush vegetable garden, on the sides of other buildings. On the left side were many chairs. In front of you you found a barbecue, on which a woman took care of. She had hazel hair. The smell of grilled meat had soaked the air.

“Welcome.”, she greeted: “You came in from the back, that’s smart.”

“Mary, can you prepare a dish for the newcomers?”, Alex asked kindly. At the tables some enjoyed fresh meat. To deny that you were hungry would be stupid, but right now you all didn’t really wanted to eat. But Rick noticed something in the distance and you followed his gaze.

“Why are you doing this, why are you welcoming everyone?”, Michonne asked.

“The more people are here, the stronger we are, that’s why we send messages, we invite people in. That’s how we survive.”

Alex handed Carl and Michonne a plate, but your eyes were on something else. Beside a parasol a woman carried Daryl’s poncho, which Maggie had taken, and the clock that belonged to Glenn was in the hands of Axel. For a moment you really believed that things were going right but the next moment you pulled out a gun and aimed it at the woman’s head while Rick caught Alex behind him and put the barrel of the gun to his temple. The others armed themselves, including Sam, who emulated you without really understanding why.

“Tell me where you got the clock from!”

The people suddenly stopped and were ready to shoot too. Daryl kept an eye on them, along with Carl, while Michonne looked at the rooftops.

“Want answers? You’ll get them if you’ve lowered your weapons.”

A sniper aimed at the sheriff.

“I see this man with a sniper rifle on the roof, how good can he shoot?”, Rick asked ironically. “Where did you get the clock from?”

The last question was screamed and Alex was startled. He told the sniper not to shoot. The woman stared at you in a strange way. She knew what would happen soon, it was quiet. Alex still didn’t answer the question until, after other threats, he decided to fulfill the sheriff’s demands. He invented a completely plausible nonsense. And also Gareth was suddenly behind you. Nobody would have believed that.

“I took it from a dead man. I thought he didn’t need it anymore!”, Alex said and other men approached with semi-automatic rifles. There were too many, it would have been impossible to escape and survive. Gareth wasn’t worried, but his face had changed. Terminus was a trap. Daryl was right.

“Where are our friends?”, you asked furiously and Gareth smiled. At the end of your question the shooters fired shots. Alex was hit and died instantly. You fired a few shots too, but you were more interested in getting away unscathed. Alarm broke out and a flood of men aimed from the rooftops. You gathered together and quickly analyzed the possible ways out. You walked from one side to the other, but as soon as you hit a street, they blocked your escape and fired a lot to your feet. You quickly understood that they lead you. You were trapped in shit, you couldn’t help but follow their directions and pretend you were escaping. Being optimistic didn’t lead anywhere. You were wrong. Maybe in this case you all would have been pessimistic and cynical like Daryl. But now you all were only allowed to think about survival…


	22. Chapter 22

Your feet ran quickly between the shots and the noise, making your minds think quickly. You walked long distances, always guided by their guns. They didn't want to kill you. They had something in mind for you, something you could never have imagined at the time. Sam looked at you like a scared animal and clearly showed how worried he was about the whole situation. He probably gave up, but the reality was that you were all scared. You knew very well that you weren't safe, but that allowed you to catch your breath as you all crossed a corridor. Without talking to each other, too excited to formulate any thought. When you opened a door, you were facing a certain picture. A whole room was covered with candles and writings on walls and floors. Yoh looked around in shock and a strange feeling permeated you. Terminus was a dark, evil place. Those who joined didn't survive but were robbed and killed. A pressure in your stomach threw your thoughts on the others in the group. You were hoping they could get away. You couldn't end that way, you couldn't survive that long to die now like animals. You wouldn't have accepted it by the hands of others. Something must have happened to this community. They had trusted the wrong people and probably paid for the consequences. That was the point that made them free themselves before they were threatened and before they could get hurt. They were no longer normal humans, they had become beasts ready to hunt all the time. They trapped the survivors, the needy who, in the face of food, could never refuse the hospitality and friendliness of the place, unconsciously signing their own death warrant.

"These people... I don't think they want to kill us.", Michonne said.

"No, they were aiming for our feet.", the sheriff confirmed.

"We have to find a way to get to the fences.", you suggested.

"They'll shoot us as soon as we show up!", Sam said, walking forward and backward.

Rick ran to a door, but it was closed from the outside. You looked at each other and crossed a door marked with a red A. You certainly couldn't stay there forever. As soon as you were outside, the usual ritual sounded. Shots and bullets, and your bodies followed the burdens. As soon as you saw the fence, Daryl and you threw yourselves headfirst in that direction, but other armed men emerged from the vegetation outside. Sam immediately raised his hands up as a sign of defeat.

"Lay your weapons on the ground!", Gareth ordered from a roof and Sam obeyed immediately.

"Your leader goes to the left! To the wagon, go!"

The letter A, as at the door, could also be seen on the wagon. You couldn't understand what they wanted to do. Why didn't they kill you all right away? Rick didn't seem very happy with the proposal, but Gareth convinced him that Carl would follow him if he had fulfilled the order he had received. No one would have died if you had gone one by one to that damn wagon. Strung in a row in front of the door, you noticed some plastic boxes and plates. They took care of the prisoners, feeding them.

"Open the door and go in.", Gareth continued.

Rick moved slowly to be close enough to Carl. He didn't want to let him out of his sight, he was afraid they wouldn't let him go with you because he had noticed all this interest in the boy. But Gareth just wanted to have fun, play with you. And now you entered this narrow, dark room. The floor of wooden planks reflected your uncertain steps. The door was closed immediately behind you, so that the darkness could surround you. You could hardly see anything, only a few faint rays of light entered the wagon. A noise from behind made you all jump. There were other people. Other people who are condemned to your own destiny. You stood motionless and heard one of the other victims slowly approaching.

"Rick?", came an uncertain voice.

The others also moved and positioned themselves in the light so that you could see them. You did the same and as soon as it was possible to see them better, you were astonished. Glenn and Maggie were right in front of you, accompanied by four other people. A tall, muscular man with red hair and a beard, a woman in shorts with side tails, another man with a Vokuhila, and a second woman you knew from the prison with the name Sasha. Shortly thereafter, a third person came forward, the young woman with the ponytail that Rick had addressed in the prison.

"You're alive...", the sheriff said in disbelief: "You're here."

You didn't greet each other with hugs and congratulations, although you were glad that part of the group was alive and well. You were still shocked and angry about the incident, as was Glenn and the others. You just looked at each other as if you were scared and as if it was an illusion.

"They are our friends.", Glenn explained.

"They saved us.", a woman added.

You looked at each one individually. It seemed like they were already close together and you liked that.

"Now our friends, too.", said the archer.

It was pleasant to hear those words from Daryl's mouth. A smile escaped you and the red-haired man noticed it.

"But I think that won't last long.", he said stressed. Then he started walking away, but Rick stopped him with words.

"No.", he explained: "They'll feel very stupid when they find out."

Nevertheless, he approached the door and tried to see through the cracks. You remained silent, curious to hear the rest. Rick might have a plan.

"What are they going to find out?", the man asked.

The sheriff turned angrily to his face, the blood boiling in his veins. He was ready to take revenge.

"That they fucked with the wrong people."

After the first hour of planning the remaining actions, you organized weapons. Since you were completely disarmed, you had to reinvent this resource. You used everything that was available. Shoelaces, belts, zippers and pieces of wood from the wagon itself. If those bastards opened the wagon, you would have tried everything. Now there was a frustrating silence. Although Rick was sure of your victory, not everyone was in the same mood. Many were discouraged in the soul. You yourself had doubts. It wouldn't have been this easy this time. Courage wasn't enough and the wait was irritating. You had no idea when they would consider you if someone had decided to open the wagon. You just had to wait to forget about this endless time. You tried to get a sharp piece off a board that you could grab lightly and hammer into a neck. You saw Sam sitting in a corner, now he had given up hope... You wiped your forehead, leaned your back against the metal wall and heard Glenn whisper something, who then sat down next to you.

"Are you alright?", he asked.

"It's not bad.", you replied, looking at your bloody hands: "Why did you ask me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to see what you would answer.", he said with a smile.

You missed Glenn. He was the first person you talked to about your past. The first of the group you entrusted yourself. He had a nice, quiet character, he always managed to convey serenity, even now, despite the shit in which you were immersed.

"How is Maggie?", you asked, thinking about Hershel.

"We haven't talked about it yet, you know... She and I were practically at the gates of Terminus, she was with Sasha while I was with the rest, and over all these days I didn't give up. I was consoling myself with a picture of her, but just as hope left me, I found a message along the rails: 'Glenn, go to Terminus.' So these circumstances aren't exactly easy to talk about."

"I can imagine...", you answered.

Maggie hadn't yet had the opportunity to talk to Glenn about her father, about the shock she had suffered. You were sure that she would have avoided the subject anyway, even if they had had time together. It wouldn't have been easy for them to talk about it as if nothing had happened, although the time was up, not enough had passed.

"Glenn, I don't know how much comfort I can give you with that-...", you whispered: "...-But I buried Hershel."

Glenn stared at you for a while and you slowly saw a smile. Although it was dark, you would swear you saw a light in his eyes. He hugged you suddenly and surprised you. He was thankful. When fortune eased, he broke off awkwardly and felt ashamed of the spontaneous action.

"Thank you.", he whispered.

Hershel had been almost like a father to this boy, in fact he had been a father to all. A wise man, benevolent, always ready to advise and help anyone, even you. You released Glenn with his eyes and he returned to his love, which he had wrapped around his arms. They were a wonderful couple. Her love was pure... You decided then to take a break and reached Sam, who was completely isolated.

"We will all die...", he said before you could say anything.

"Probably, but it's worth a try, don't you think?"

He looked at you uncertainly and you didn't know what to say. You knew he was thinking like you, but at that moment he was broken. He also felt more scared and you understood that well.

"Sam, when we get out of here... You can stay with us..."

"Did you ask the others?", he mumbled.

"Not yet, but I'm sure that-..."

"As I imagined.", he interrupted you.

"Listen, Sam, we're a family, we..."

You paused suddenly when you realized that you had just said WE. You were petrified. Your subconscious already thought of being part of this family, assuming that the past no longer had relevance. Maybe it was plausible, but you couldn't be sure. You just dreamed that someday you would be seriously involved...

"I'm sorry.", Sam distracted you: "I didn't want to be annoying, only... All this scares me."

"Do not worry, I understand you."

He looked down sadly, as if thinking of something.  
"Damn.", he said: "Why the hell did I come here? This man with the eyepatch was right!"

As soon as you heard the words, you felt your blood freeze. The Governor? No, this couldn't be. He was dead. He couldn't live, he had lost too much blood. The wound in his stomach... You shook your head in disbelief and let the fear and anger overwhelm you. Sam instinctively headed for the wall, making sure not to make a noise. He didn't try to free himself from your stranglehold, just looked at you frightened and sought help behind you, hoping someone would see it. You turned and saw Rick talking to Daryl. The archer got up and reached you with big steps.

"What the hell 's goin' on 'ere?", he hissed and didn't want to attract the attention of others. You stepped back. You didn't want the new members to think you're crazy.

"No idea!", Sam shouted: "I talked about a man with a eyepatch and she attacked me!"

As soon as this sentence was over, it was Daryl who threw him to the wall.

"What's your problem?", Sam asked in fear.

The sound of contact between the boy's back and the wagon alerted the entire group, who immediately turned to face you. Rick wanted to warn the archer, but you interrupted him.

"He talked about a man, a man with an eyepatch!", you called so everyone could hear it. The new members looked at Rick and didn't know what you were talking about. The sheriff seemed to fade. Michonne sat down so that she could see you completely.

"That's not possible! I killed him..."

Maggie stood with her head down, covering her ears with her hands. Glenn stayed close to her, stroking her back as she begged you to ask the question.

"Describe him!", Daryl shouted. Sam understood that you were not joking and so he spoke.

"Okay... He's... He's tall, has brown hair... His healthy eye is blue... And when I met him, he had a beard..."

Your hands were shaking. It could be anyone, it did not have to be Philip. But there were too many coincidences. Apart from the beard, it seemed to be a good description.

"He was nice, he saved me!", he said stuttering: "What can I say, what do you want to hear?"

Daryl made no sign of loosening his grip, and everyone seemed to have returned to that memory as if reliving that nightmare.

"The name.", you said: "What is his name?"

Sam tried to recognize your intentions because he couldn't understand your reaction. Obviously, he began to suspect that there was no very pleasant connection.

"Why is that so important?", he asked.

Daryl tightened his grip and threatened him: "Y/N asked a question, what's his name?"

"Brian, his name was Brian!", he exclaimed in fear.

The archer released him and hated him with his eyes. A sense of shame overruled you all and made you feel like idiots. You panicked in vain. That meant the Governor's spirit had never left you. Each one of you still had a bitter memory. Nobody had digested this matter. Brian...

"Now you don't care anymore?", Sam asked Daryl. Nobody answered him. Rick crouched down and returned to work. And also the others.

"What a fool!", he added.

"Shut the fuck up!", said the archer: "I'm surprised I don't feel the urge to kill ya'."

Sam was about to explode and react badly, but you stopped him. "Enough. Stop it. Please, Sam, don't reduce yourself to his level."

"To my level?", Daryl repeated angry and Sam looked at you before he laughed: "I'll let you quarrel, lovebirds.", he said, now leaving.  
Then he sat down and let himself fall.

Daryl and you again found yourselves shoulder to shoulder, resting on a wall as well. It reminded you of the garage, Joe's group. Now you were faced with another danger...

"We'll make it, don't we?", you asked, watching the others build weapons. Daryl nodded, adding nothing more. Not that you expected it. He wasn't good at comforting people, and you understood that at your expense. But you had gotten used to it by now. Then, as if the brain had linked a thought, he whispered to you.

"We're still there. I mean, we're survivors, we've always done it somehow. Don't know why we're so fucked up or why strangers want to rip our damn asses off, but in the end we keep gettin' out of bullshit like this. Don't know how long this shit will take, but for now we're still here."

You couldn't believe what your ears heard: We are still here...


	23. Chapter 23

The sun horribly heated the cage you were locked in and made you cook slowly. Although you still had a little fever, you felt the heavy and increasingly humid air. You alternately shuddered with drops of sweat on your forehead and forced yourself to cool and cover yourself each time. Abraham told the group his story, his mission. Washington, hope... To be honest, it seemed foolish, the plan was too easy. You were probably not in the mood to believe the news, but it seemed too easy as a definitive solution to the epidemic.

"You are too sure.", you threw in: "Something doesn't convince me."

Eugene looked at you strangely and didn't know how to answer.

"Do you think I would risk my life for a pointless mission?", Abraham muttered.

"I'm just saying you don't tell us everything, so what's the solution?"

The three looked at each other before they looked at you again.

"It's top secret.", Eugene said and you smiled incredulously.

"Bullshit!", Daryl spat out.

Abraham seemed angry, but Rosita held him by the arm. You realized that he was a rabid type, quite vulnerable to anger. You should have been careful for now.

"It's not necessary for him to reveal the mission to you, the question is simple, are you going with us to Washington or not?", he explained.

Rosita tried to challenge you with her eyes, hoping that your curiosity would make you want to support her. The sheriff lowered his head. As the leader of the group, his decision would have affected your fate. But the question was postponed when you heard some men approach the wagon. You hurried to arm yourselves and take a position. The adrenaline was stellar, including unpredictable anxiety.

"You know what to do.", Rick reminded us: "First in the eyes and then the throat."

For a few seconds you held your breath, waiting for the door to open, to be blinded by the light of the day, but what opened wasn't themain door, but a small flap over your heads. A tear gas grenade fell to your feet. Immediately you threw yourselves at the ends of the wagon, but that wasn't enough to avoid it. You started to cough like crazy and so did the others. You buried your face in the hem of the shirt and tried to limit the inhalation of that gas. But it was too late, your eyes burned monstrously. The white smoke spread like a fog bank and made the viewability impossible. The door suddenly opened and someone grabbed you. You tried in vain to escape, but you were thrown to the ground in rage and a second person tied your hands and feet together. You saw, albeit badly, how the ground moved beneath you and a sound like an electric saw filled your ears. When they lifted your head and put it on a tub, like a steel crib, you finally could see who you had by your side. You were the last in line. Next to you was Rick, followed by Daryl and Glenn, and then by some people you didn't know, other people of common destiny. You had to control the situation, you couldn't afford to miss any details, there had to be a way out. In the corner of the building were two men who were dressed as butchers and dismembered a corpse. You looked away immediately. Once the transport workers were released, the two executioners used a baseball bat and a butcher's knife.

"Let's start.", said one.

They positioned themselves at the tub behind their victims. The first hit an unfortunate victim at the back of the head and the second killed him with a precise cut. The blood flowed into the tub... They would slaughter you like pigs. What meaning could it have? You looked again at the split body in parts of this funeral camp. And then you understood... You were the meat, you were their food. The same food they offered you the day before. These actions continued and three others were killed. The next one should be Glenn. There was no time to lose, you had to think. You asked Rick with your eyes and he turned his eyes to his legs. You looked and realized he was trying to pull something out of his shoes. You improvised, something to distract their attention from Glenn. They weren't allowed to notice Rick.

"Hello!", Gareth shouted and came in suddenly. The leader took a few steps forward and approached. You had to distract him at any cost. So you started trying to talk and asked to be heard. Meanwhile, Daryl tried to warn you with his eyes.

"Four of A and some of B?", Gareth asked, ignoring you. After the positive answer, you persisted until he released your lips, now annoyed.

"What?", he asked passively.

"Do not do it!", you said, and said the first things that came to your mind: "We can find a solution!"

"No we can't."

"There is a solution.", you said: "We can stop all this, the whole epidemic will be eradicated, and if you let us go, we'll go to Washington. We have a scientist in our group! Everything will be the same as before."

He chuckled, gave you a bitter smile and put the rag back in your mouth, but freed Rick from it.

"You went through the forest with a bag, what's in there?", Gareth asked.

Rick didn't answer and only stared at him with hatred and contempt. But the bastard pulled out a knife and brought it close to your throat.

"Weapons.", Rick replied instinctively to protect you: "A Magnum, AK-47, several semi-automatic weapons, shotguns... And a machete, which I'll use to kill you."

Gareth shook his head, almost wanting to understand how naive you all were. He was sure that you would die, that you couldn't free yourselves, but fate seemed to help you a second time. The ground vibrated... Several shots echoed in the distance. The leader immediately left the slaughterhouse and went out into the yard. Someone attacked Terminus. It was your chance. The two butchers ran away to watch what was happening from the windows. Rick moved, now freed, slowly, squatting behind them. He stabbed one of the men in his knee, forcing him to fall backward. Shortly thereafter, he pierced his skull. The second man wanted to react, but Rick had already grabbed the victim's weapon and hit him with a precise shot to kill him. Meanwhile, the shots outside increased and Rick took the knife and freed you all. Glenn tried to calm down after being close to death again, murmured something and pointed to the dismembered corpse. Then he turned to you, pale in the face, as if understanding the terrible reality. Then you approached the operating table and stole an axe.

"The victims are no food for the walkers. It's their supplies, we are the food. They don't attract the survivors to rob them, but to have a full pantry."

Rick looked around, almost didn't believe that, and approached a door. You left the slaughterhouse and crossed other rooms. Some carcasses have been hung on some chains just as slaughter meat is being dried. Glenn still did not believe it. It was unthinkable to imagine such a place. They fed on people, innocent survivors. There was no difference between walkers and the people of Terminus. They had become cannibals.  
Rick watched the whole meat mass and took on a furious expression. His body trembled with the desire to avenge all these people. He would never let any of them survive. Suddenly, screams echoed in the yard... You had to hurry, free your people and flee immediately. Outside the building, you leaned forward to watch the chaos that happened in front of your eyes. The air was hot, full of smoke, so it irritated your throat. Very high flames were released in the sky and a horde of walkers had entered Terminus. The cannibals had armed themselves, spread out into Terminus, hoping to keep the whole attack at bay. A gas tank had exploded and completely destroyed the main fence. As soon as a man appeared in front of you, Daryl hit him in the face before he could even react. The sheriff and the aecher armed themselves with an AK and a pistol. You moved and positioned yourselves. Up ahead were Rick and Daryl, armed with firearms ready to kill each of the cannibals, while Glenn and you took over the walkers that came in your direction. Some of them, though charred, went on burning.

"These bastards never give up!", he said.

"Hey!", you shouted: "Wagon A!"

"Let's move on before the walkers overwhelms us!", Rick advised you.

You ran to the door and broke the big lock. The group went out confused and frightened at the same time. Michonne immediately disappeared into the yard, avoiding asking what was going on, and caring for a few walkers. But Sam looked at you in fear.

"Where are we going?", Rosita asked.

"We need to reach the side entrance so we can find the bag we've hidden. We need the weapons!", you replied.

Abraham nodded and you moved closer together like a real team. Rick and Daryl had considered using the cannibals as bait. To see them still alive worried you a little. Suddenly you were in a red brick structure with an open lock. When you entered these you saw backpacks, bags, clothes, many different things. This mass of seemingly useless things were nothing but the gravestones of lost lives for sheer malice. Then you also recognized your backpack, your weapons and especially the notebook. And Sam understood that because of an uncertain but determined expression when you went on, you had something in mind.

"What are you doing?", he asked breathlessly. You looked at him and told him not to protest.

"I have to go back.", you said: "I'll come to you later, don't wait for me."

Before you could lift your heels, he tore you around. "Are you crazy?", he shouted in panic.

"It's important, I have to do something.", you replied: "Don't tell the others, just tell them you've lost track of me!"

These were your words and so you ran. Not far away you saw the target, but when you thought you were there, something hit you in your shoulder. You immediately threw yourself to the ground and hid behind a stack of wooden pallets. You put your hand on the wound and watched the blood come out with greed. Preventing you to see who shot you, you noticed that Gareth was lying on a roof, clutching a sniper rifle. Then you saw that there was a corpse near you... So you were forced to stretch a little and pull it quickly before Gareth could fire again. The body had a gun with him. But not a very suitable prey, because an assault rifle guaranteed support up to a distance of about a few hundred meters, so it would have been too inaccurate, but it would still be enough to distract him. Your plan was to force him to seek protection and then to move to the other side of the road to reach your destination. As soon as you pulled the trigger, Gareth hid his head and you could run to the storehouse. When you were only a few feet away, you saw a grenade slip to your feet. Instinctively you kicked it away and a short time later it exploded violently and threw yourself to the ground. The earth shook, the scaffolding of the next room fell to the ground, partially covering you. From the pain you felt, you realized that something had pierced through your leg. You got rid of this scrap heap, scratched your arms, and saw a big knife in your thigh. You were bleeding, you were bleeding a lot. The pain was so severe that the burning in the shoulder disappeared. You could only feel this terrible pain, this indescribable torture. It was venous blood, so you weren't in any great danger of seriously bleeding to death, but the fact remained that the wound was quite large. You tried to move your leg, but as soon as you lifted it slightly, a wave of pain came over you. The still mild fever caused a constant dizziness and the explosion had only confused you even more. You were unable to move. But you had to get rid of this scaffolding at any cost. And so you tried again and managed to lift it a little bit, but again you had to give up and bite your teeth together. The blood went on undisturbed and you noticed that you were feeling increasingly sluggish. When you realized that you were about to faint, someone grabbed you from behind, took you under your arms and pulled you backwards into another structure. Your vision was blurry and all you could see was the streak of blood left by your wounds, a few red bricks and a steel tub.

The slaughterhouse...


	24. Chapter 24

An annoying noise forced you to briefly open you eyes. Someone put you against a wall and a voice boomed in your ears even though it was still far away. You still couldn't concentrate on words. Your fists closed, it was an involuntary spasm. The stranger must have touched one of the wounds. You also thought you heard your name, wanted you to stay conscious. You weren't allowed to lose your senses again, not in this situation. So you slowly tried to open your eyelids again, but everything was blurry, opaque. You saw thin, dirty hands and felt your wounded leg. The person tied a rag firmly over the wound, slowing the blood flow. He helped you, he wasn't an enemy. Long, but tiny fingers. A woman.

"Y/N, let's go!", the woman urged: "Stay awake! Can you hear me?"

She put her hands on your face and picked it up so you could see her. You just saw a brown spot blurry. Her face was covered with mud and blood. You tried to concentrate, however difficult it was. You saw the blue of her eyes, the pronounced cheekbones, and the short hair. Carol... Carol took care of you. She had taken you directly to the slaughterhouse and went with you shortly afterwards to the warehouse which you wanted to reach. Your eyes became clearer and finally you could see the whole scene clearly. She reached with her fingers for the projectile in your shoulder and looked at you determined.

"You have to be strong now.", she said and before you could say anything or even realize this action she tore the bullet out. The pain that overwhelmed you was terrible, but you didn't scream.

"It's not serious, but we need to clean both wounds as soon as possible.", Carol reassured you: "There's a muscle destroyed in your thigh, I think you'll limp for months..."

You thanked her with your eyes and she nodded, and shortly afterwards you reached out your arm.

"It was you, right?", you asked. She smiled at you and confirmed your hypothesis.

"You have a fever and are pale. You lost a lot of blood... I'm not sure if you can reach the forest..."

Her objectivity was like a punch in your face, but she wasn't good at giving false hope. You swallowed and actually felt your total weakness. But you wouldn't give up. So you hobbled to the table and masked the pain of each step. You took your backpack and stuffed it with ammunition, which didn't make Carol suspicious. On her shoulder you saw Daryl's crossbow. This bastard was really lucky, in one way or another, his weapon kept coming back to him. You looked out the window and watched the chaos outside.

"Do you have a plan?", you asked. She loaded a weapon, a semi-automatic rifle.

"We're going to the back, the snipers are all busy on the other side, let's take care of those on the ground, there are many, but we shouldn't have any problems."

You agreed, the clearing was the only way to reach the others. You opened the door, threw yourselves into the area, although the pain grew stronger and crouched behind a wall. The original idea had already taken a different turn. It was impossible to cross the area without cover. And so you scanned the place with your eyes. One of you could easily reach the side exit while the other had gone down an alley and was forced to climb over the fence. This would have to happen quickly and close the doors, attracting the bulk of the walkers so that the second person can cross the area almost undisturbed.

"We have to split up!", you said aloud: "I will try to cover you and as soon as you are behind the fence, I will find another exit."

She studied the area and focused on the possible scene. She knew there were no other solutions.

"But if you take the alley, I can not support you anymore!", she said to you and seemed horrified.

"I know.", you replied: "Do not think about it, the others will be happy to know you're alive!"

These were your words and so you leaned forward and fired. Carol looked at you disapprovingly. You started shooting again, avoiding that she could repeat or formulate a second suggestion. You fired at these bastards, destroyed their brains, and Carol moved under these risen monsters. As soon as she had closed the gate, the crowd of the living dead surged as expected. After a quick look between you, you also went your way and heard shots behind you. You entered the alley, fortunately empty, and went through others. It seemed to you that you had arrived at the building where Gareth and his men had directed you to the wagon. At the end you found yourself in front of another huge open space, which was also decorated with corpses that went their way. You hid behind the wagons and searched the fence for an open spot. You had to go out as soon as possible, your body gave up and you were getting weaker and weaker. To finally escape, you tore open a part of the lower, damaged fence. But you had to move on and so you clung to a tree and ran. You wanted to be as far away as possible. This place was hell, you wouldn't have risked being captured a second time. It didn't matter if you fell to the ground or if you lost your senses, it was more important for you to save yourself. When you turned around, you noticed the same place where you had hidden the bag. But as you continued on your way to finally reach the others, you were pushed back.

"Why the hell 'nd for what fuckin' reason have ya' gone back?", Daryl barked, not giving up the grip as he squeezed your throat to the ground.

You tried to escape his grip and he tore your backpack away.

"Somethin' 'bout that?", he asked angrily: "Answer me!"

"I don't expect you to understand it."

He opened the backpack and dumped the contents on the ground in the mud. The first things that fell were your equipment and other weapons, including ammunition and the notebook. He began to dig between these objects and shook his head. He knew that because of ammunition you couldn't go back, there had to be something else.

"Ya' 're stupid, dammit, I'm tired of seein' ya' put yerself in harm's way!", he shouted.

"Go to hell Daryl!"

He reached for the notebook. "Look at ya'!", he spat angrily: "How can ya' even believe what ya' 're talkin' 'bout?"

He quickly flipped through the pages, scanned them and did not understand what this trivial object might mean.

"What's that bullshit?", he asked, more angry than before: "Ya' came back for a stupid piece of paper! Ya' want to die? Is that what ya' want? 'Cause it doesn't make sense!"

He reached the last pages and noticed the other kind of ink. You opened your mouth and hoped he wouldn't read it.

"Do not pretend that you're interested!", you grumbled.

"I take care of ya'!", he growled and you looked at him in confusion. He showed his concern. You bowed your head, feeling discouraged.

"If ya' want to commit suicide again, tell me! At least then I'll avoid wastin' ammo!"

"I don't need your help at all, or your misgivings, if I make you angry, just avoid me. Screaming at me does not change the situation. And now give me back my stuff, asshole."

He approached nervously and made you withdraw so far that you collided with a tree.

"That ya' 've done it so far has only worked 'cause ya' 've always had someone behin' ya'. Otherwise ya'd be dead for a long time.", he said, slapping the notebook on your chest and hating you with his eyes.

You dropped to your knees, bent over your backpack and threw everything in, including the notebook.

"Shut your fucking mouth!", you shouted: "You know nothing!"

"I don't think ya' even understood the situation!"

You turned around. You were tired of hearing his words. "Accept it or not. I can take care of myself."

He pulled you up and grabbed your arm.

"Really?", he asked ironically: "And yer leg 'nd the shoulder?"

"Do you like treating me that way, or is it self-evident for you?", you replied, smiling at him defiantly.

He then brought his face close to you and entered your personal space. You felt his altered breathing, his anger and crystalline eyes continued to hate you. Then he touched your cheek and whispered something in your ear. You felt unwell. So much so that you blushed.

"Fuck ya'.", he hissed. You moved away from his face and hobbled around among the trees in the direction of the group. Daryl returned, however, to continue blaming you, as you expected.

"Something's wrong...", you shuddered.

"Maybe yer damn brain finally understood the situation!", he objected.

"I've lost too much blood...", you said, looking at the blood that ran out of your wounds again...

~

Then everything was white. A flawless white. There was only this color. An infinite and luminous space. Maybe you were dead. You took a few steps, there was no noise in this place. You checked your body and there was no wound. You tried to remember what had happened, and slowly the memory returned, leading you to Terminus, the escape, and Daryl. You could move your leg well... Either you were dreaming or you were really dead. There weren't many alternatives. If this was life after death, it was rather boring and monochrome. You went on without cause, as if hoping to meet something or someone. In the distance, you noticed a shadow, a figure, and you found yourself in front of a man. A plaid shirt, red and black... You knew who it was and then he turned around and smiled at you.

"Y/N, don't give up."

"What? Where am I?"

His eyes were empty... "Damn, why did you do that?"

You didn't understand it, his answers weren't relevant to your questions.

"I went back because of you, because of the notebook..."

The ground vibrated and changed its appearance and the whole atmosphere. When everything materialized, you realized that you were in the flowery field right where he had kissed you and where he had been murdered. The same one where you both buried Hershel and where you had been abused. The same damn field. You knew that you weren't talking to your former buddy and not to his spirit. Maybe it was a hallucination...

"Why are you thinking of those who are no longer alive?", he asked you. But you didn't answer and waited for an explanation.

"You should think about the people you have now, worrying about who you lost makes no sense! When will you finally understand? When will you understand that you can't risk your life?"

"I'm sorry...", you said with tears in your eyes. You approached him again, but as far as you went, you couldn't reach him. You started to get desperate. Everything was so strange and depressing.

"I'm not the person you need anyway...", he said sadly and you tried to pick up a flower, but your hand went through it, almost like a hologram.

"Please... Don't say that bullshit... What kind of place is that, tell me...", you said but his forehead suddenly began to bleed, the bullet hole appeared and he turned around.

"Don't go away again...", you begged him, but he didn't follow your request, on the contrary, he walked away slowly and was getting smaller in your eyes.

"No!", you screamed and all around it became white as in the beginning, but you didn't give up and ran, fooling yourself that you would reach him this time, that you wouldn't have lost him this time. For some strange reason, your steps took effect.

"No!", you shouted again and grabbed his shoulder. But when he turned around, only a blinding light hit your eyes.

~

It was like coming out of the sea again when there is no more oxygen. The light was slowly darkening until you could understand where you were. Walls, furniture, a roof, a comfortable bed. A house. A safe place. You're alive. A clear glow from the window was typical of the early morning. You tried to get up and sat up to understand more. When you tried, the bed creaked.

"Y/N!", a voice shouted: "God, you're awake!"

Sam's face appeared with a big smile.

"What the hell happened?", you asked, seeing an infusion bag that was now empty.

"Saline.", he explained, noting your questioning face: "To keep you from drying out, you'll probably feel a bit confused... We had to bombard you with painkillers. And every time we tried to sew the wounds you have convulsed and have had a seizure. You were in this condition for two days..."

"Where are we?"

"It's a church.", he replied quickly: "A priest is hosting us, it's not much, but better than nothing. We've already barricaded the exterior, for now it's safe, after this woman has saved us, we have met other people. Sasha's brother, and he had a baby with him."

"Judith? Rick's daughter?", you asked.

He nodded. You smiled and dropped into the blanket. Then your mind suddenly projected the image of Beth.

"Beth! Beth is missing."

"Yes, I'm sorry, she was there, too!", he said, rubbing his neck in embarrassment: "I couldn't remember the name."

You looked at him apathetically and felt a bit strange, weak.

"By the way.", Sam said and looked at the leg: "It would be better if we change the bandage."

He lifted the blanket and you realized that you were underneath only in your underwear.

"What the hell am I doing in my underwear? Where's my pants?", you asked in shock.

"We had to take her off, you were soaked with mud and blood, the wound threatened to get an infection."

"Who are 'WE'?", you shouted at him. He sat down beside the bed, disbelieving from your reaction.

"Yes, we. Daryl helped."

You shook your head and rejected those words. Nevertheless, you reassured him. He then told you how they had come to church as they had met Father Gabriel. Glenn, Maggie, Eugene, Rosita and Abraham had gone to Washington together. Rick wasn't happy anyway.

"I can not imagine you and Daryl getting along.", you said and he shrugged.

"Since it was you, he fought."

"It can't be, there's nothing going on between us and I've told you that before."

He threw away the old bandages.

"From whom? From you or from him?", he chuckled.

"Bullshit! If that leg hadn't been, I'd kick your damn ass anyway."

He turned to you, confused.

"I asked you not to tell the others, instead you immediately told Dixon that I went back to get something."

He looked down and apologized.

"Well, he threatened me, you know how..."

Yes, you knew what he was like. Because of that, you couldn't get angry at Sam. He had tried. That was enough for you. Right now it was important to you that you were all united again. Fate had been favorable. And then you thought about Daryl, about the scene in the forest.

"That fucking asshole...", you thought aloud.

"That asshole was near you all the time, and I'd swear you were whispering things."

You sat down and rubbed your temples. What he said made no sense. Daryl wasn't that type of person.

"Then you started talking about a man.", he said: "Don't get me wrong, but what's the real situation? Do you have a boyfriend and he's jealous?"

You looked at him in horror and Sam immediately shut his mouth. The door opened and you both turned in that direction. Daryl stood at the entrance, as if surprised to see you awake. There was a strange feeling of embarrassment in the air. Sam then said goodbye and reluctantly left you both behind. But the archer didn't approach and stopped at the door.

"I washed yer backpack. It's full of mud. Carol didn't know ya' 're goin' away from the group, 'nd Sam didn't told me the reason."

"What did you tell them?", you asked, looking down at the floor as he looked out the window.

"Ya' 're lookin' for the armory."

You didn't add something anymore, just staring at him with a mixture of hate and gratitude. You no longer knew how to act towards him.

"Listen.", he said shortly after: "I'm sorry."

And those words provoked in you a series of lightning bolts that sent you into the kind of dream that woke you up. If what Sam had said was true, then those words were nothing but what your brain heard while you slept. Because you haven't heard your former buddy. You heard Daryl...


	25. Chapter 25

The chirping enriched this place in the midst of nature and simulated a quiet and completely normal reality, as if the epidemic had been just a bad dream. Sometimes you hoped to wake up in your bed to find out that this was only the result of your imagination. It is well known that time in sleep takes on a different form... It could have been a risky and absurd hypothesis, but sometimes the thought just came to you...

Your leg seemed to be in good shape by now. Still, you were not allowed to get up, Rick and the others preferred that you stay calm for at least another day. You were hoping to be able to be reasonable in the future. You did not care if you could reduce that possibility if you wanted to force it, you couldn't afford to slow the group down. After the last uttered words, Daryl had left without adding anything, as if this had been an inhumane effort. Sasha, although you didn't really know her, had meanwhile gotten you pants that she had found in the city. She then stayed with you and told you how she had met Glenn and the others on the way. She seemed grateful to him, apparently rescuing her from a bad situation in the woods. She too had lost her family, but at least her brother had stayed. You knew what it felt like, almost everyone knew... There were only a few cases left, some people still surrounded by happiness, surrounded by family members. For example, Rick still had his children with him, even though he had lost his wife. The little girl had a strong character, no matter how tense her smile was, she tried it. In the meantime, you hadn't been able to talk to Tyreese, the man who had helped Beth and the baby all these days. Who knows what a sense of gratitude the sheriff felt towards him? However, the other new members had already left before you could grasp their knowledge. But the fact that Maggie and Glenn trusted them made you think they were good people. You tried to stretch a little, because staying in the bed began to irritate you. From the moment you were alone, you got up to approach a mirror on the dresser on the opposite wall. You patted your healthy leg and clung to the surrounding furniture. The glass surface was full of dust, so you passed it with the sleeve of a military shirt. As soon as you could see yourself, you were horrified. Shoulder destroyed, leg destroyed, scratches and bruises on the arms. There were still some old hematomas on the stomach. You looked like a painting... Fortunately, most of the injuries were easy to hide. The door swung open and before you could turn around you realized immediately that Sam had caught you. Resigned, you followed him and returned to the bed.

"I told Rick that you're feeling better, he wanted to talk to you.", he informed you: "Shall I get him?"

You agreed and he left the room. The group wanted to think about the next actions. Terminus had been a terrible mistake. It became increasingly difficult to be optimistic, every step could be dangerous. Lately it seemed impossible to find an escape route, a suitable place for you all. They were physically united, but divided. More minds, less common decisions. Although Rick would have decided in the end for everyone. The trust was not lost. When he came to you, the sheriff leaned over and showed you what he was holding in his arms. Judith. He sat next to you and cuddled the little creature. She could soothe his soul.

"How are you?", he asked, clearing his throat: "Sam told me you had to keep your leg still for a while."

The child's blue eyes focused on yours. They were like your little sister's...

"I'm fine, thank you...", you answered. He gave you half a smile and frowned. He was thoughtful, something worried him.

"Is something wrong?", you asked, stroking the baby's tiny hand.

"I don't know what to do.", he said worriedly: "We can't stay here, that's for sure, but I can't ask our people to plunge into the unknown. We miraculously got away and I can't and I don't want to put them in danger again."

You understood him. The load fell on his shoulders and he began to feel the weight.

"Rick, what happened is not your fault. Look at it from another point of view. Terminus has allowed us to find each other again. If that terrible place hadn't been, we'd still wonder if the others are still alive or not. We were lucky, it's a miracle and you don't need to blame yourself because self-pity leads to nothing..."

He looked at you without adding anything and examined you with his crystalline eyes. He put a hand on your knee and thanked you without saying a word. This contact surprised you. He wasn't usually like that to you, but Judith's presence had probably led him to it.

"When I saw Daryl running, with you in his arms, hurt and bleeding heavily, I was afraid and thought the worst... And the armory... I don't want to know, and I don't care why you went back. It's enough for me if you promise not to do this single-handedly anymore."

At that moment, he tightened his grip and forced you to look him straight in the face.

"You did something very stupid, I hope you at least noticed.", he said seriously: "Y/N, promise me, I'm tired of losing people, I can't take it anymore..."

You remained silent and petrified by his words. You did not expect such a confession. You did not expect Rick to open up to you one day. Did he really take care of you? Or did he just let himself go and think that one of his people could take your place? It was possible that he had portrayed the same scene with others in the group and imagined how much he would suffer. Maybe he felt guilty for not noticing ... Or maybe you just had too much paranoia. Maybe you were the one who still thought you weren't part of the family.

"I'm sorry, Rick.", you whispered confused: "I promise you."

Meanwhile, Daryl hurried into the room, maybe he had something important to report, but as soon as he saw the sheriff's hand, he stopped immediately. Rick immediately pulled his hand back and jumped up, waiting to hear him. The archer looked at you with his eyes hidden by a few strands of hair and gestured to Rick to talk.

"We foun' everythin' we needed in the village.", he explained. Rick waved to you and went on to check the different products. Daryl, however, stopped motionless and stared at you as if it would help him answer some of his questions. Then he moved and positioned himself in front of you. He took something out of his bag and handed it to you.

"I made sure no one saw it.", he said, showing you the notebook.

You wanted to thank him, but instinctively you grabbed it, without saying anything, flipping through the pages, afraid it would be ruined. The paper had absorbed the mud and turned light brown, almost like coffee stains, but the writing was still visible. You looked at the object for which you had risked your life and realized how stupid it was. The memory of your short-time, good friend would always stay with you... So it did not matter if you had the notebook. You sighed, tired from your temporary irrationality, leaning to one side and looking back at the Daryl's face. You wondered how to behave, now that you knew what he had said, when you were unconscious and he was carrying you. 'I'm not the person you need anyway.' That sentence echoed in your head. What does that mean? You weren't touched by the idea of interest, but it was possible he felt guilty.

"What do ya' think?", he asked: "That I'm an asshole?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Are you?"

He leaned his back against the wooden furniture and folded his arms across his chest.

"Maybe.", he said, raising one corner of his mouth.

"Then yes, probably.", you replied and smiled slightly. It relieved you, he seemed amused. He was glad to see you laugh, it meant you were fine.

"I was stupid, even Rick told me.", you said: "And thank you."

Then he looked at you grimly and did not understand your intentions.

"Are ya' fuckin' kiddin' me?", he asked: "I don't deserve any thanks. On the contrary, ya' should yell at me angrily."

You forced yourself on your healthy leg, got up and hobbled towards him.

"Are ya' crazy?", he grumbled: "Ya' should stay 'n bed, ya'-...", he started, but you hugged him and put your face gently on his chest. He stayed away from this contact and let his arms hang as if he did not know what to do. He neither moved nor said anything.

"You're not an asshole, Daryl Dixon.", you whispered: "I know that what you did and what you do is for my own good. Sometimes you make mistakes, but that characterizes you, and I feel the duty to thank you. Even if you don't understand why."

There was a minute's silence of embarrassment. Gradually you realized what you had done. You had instinctively acted without thinking too much about it. You were happy, you knew that you had done the right thing. Then his arms suddenly rested on your back and gently strengthened this loving and spontaneous exchange. It seemed unusual and strange to hear no insult or hatred, a speech that would ironicize the situation or that would vilify you to end the embrace... No... You both just stayed in that gesture for a while...

~

Despite what you were told, you put on your pants and joined the others lying on the various benches inside the church. They seemed very tired and insecure, unsure how to move the next day. For you, it wouldn't matter to stay in the church, for the moment this place was safe and could be useful to clarify the plans, even if it seemed to worry their thoughts even more. As soon as they saw you go, Sam shook his head resignedly and pretended to look away. Carl meanwhile ran to you with the baby in his arms and smiled more than ever.

"You can walk again!", he said happily.

"Obviously!", you underlined with a smile. Michonne smiled too, amused by the look Sam gave you. Carol winked at you from a distance. You looked at her and noticed that something had changed in her. She seemed stronger than she was in the prison. Meanwhile, Beth also reached you.

"I'm glad to see you.", you smiled at her.

"I knew I would find you again, Tyreese helped me and was patient to support me.", she explained, looking at him with her eyes: "I'm glad to see you're fine."

Tyreese now awoke from his own thoughts and approached as well.

"We couldn't get to know each other yet.", he spoke gently.

"My mistake.", you smiled: "I'm Y/N."

"She's the one who always gets herself into some kind of shit!", Daryl shouted, busy torturing a bench with a knife. 

You both ignored him and shook hands.

"You...", you said and also looked at Sasha: "You were also at the attack on the prison that day."

"Yes, the Governor had welcomed us and recruited us for the mission, but when we understood that he wanted to kill you, we were against it.", his sister explained.

"And you cared for Beth and the baby, even though you don't even know her.", you said, smiling at Tyreese. His eyes widened. "How could I do the opposite?" He seemed surprised, but it was not spontaneous.

When you re-examined the little church, you noticed that there was no father who had kindly hosted you. You then saw a second door, from whose slits a shadow moved. The guy went back and forth. Nervous...

"Mr. “This 's the house of God, I don't want weapons” 's a bit “nervous”.", Daryl mocked as if reading your mind.

"If you were the last person to talk to him, it's understandable.", you replied ironically. Daryl sank the knife into the wood, which had been destroyed from time to time, and gave you no answer. The sheriff hid a smile under his beard as always tilting his head. 

"By the way, if you want to talk to him, you'd do us a favor.", he admitted.

"Me?", you exclaimed doubtfully and Michonne pointed to the door. "You're the only one he hasn't talked with yet.", she said.

"What should I say?", you asked uncertainly but everyone then looked at you perplexed. You shrugged, had to improvise and see how it went. And so you knocked on the door, said your name, entered slowly, and closed the door behind you again. He stared suspiciously out of the window and still wore the priest's clothes. He had remained true to his belief, despite all the shit... This was either admirable or stupid, but it depends on his own point of view.

"Father Gabriel.", you said softly: "I came to thank you personally."

Then he turned around, showing you his frightened eyes. He was afraid. Not in front of you, but something worried him and not just a little. Then he stared at your leg.

"I have prayed to the Lord not to forget one of his wounded children. I am glad that you are well."

To tell the truth, you gave more credit to the work of Rick and the others of the group, but given the circumstances, you couldn't argue.

"Then let me thank you."

He smiled at you. Maybe you were the only one who had kindly introduced yourself.

"Tell me about you, we are all brothers and sisters. Have you known these people for a long time?"

"They are good people. I don't know what you saw, but you can trust them. I was an enemy to these people, but they welcomed me."

He knew that you were honest, he could read it clearly from your expression, and yet he wasn't completely convinced. Maybe he noticed something outside the group that had escaped you all. He seemed to have survived well, probably never felt the need to use a weapon to protect himself from walkers or other individuals. He probably saw in you all that transformation that you had longed for survival, maybe you were savages, or just excellent hunters. He changed his attitude, aware of the fact that you analyzed him and pretended to be happy and in a good mood. You looked at the Bible on a table, the different candles and the crucifix on the wall.

"Y/N, do you trust God?", he suddenly asked you.

You weren't ready to answer immediately, as this question gave rise to a series of reflections on a particular topic. You couldn't deny that now and then you believed in him in the past or rather refuted the hypothesis of his existence. You thought beyond that, you didn't want to problematize the question. But it was impossible to think that such an epidemic could be superior to something like a higher power.

"Yes.", you said dryly. He smiled and adjusted his collar.

"If you hesitate to answer me, I suppose you lied. If you don't trust the Lord, how can you stand all this?", he asked.

At that moment, you thought of the people who had stood by your side, who in one way or another had helped you to move forward, or saved you from bad situations. But you had no time to answer, because he spoke again. Gabriel tried to get you to change your mind to get you on the right path. It was the idea that good people were destined to suffer, to die. Often this proved to be a correct hypothesis.

"There is a risk that I intend to experience. Father, this is now the reality. The past life is just a memory, we have no time to pray, to ask for divine help. We can only rely on ourselves."

"You don't have to tell me your thoughts, I've already understood your logic.", he said. "But I wonder if you don't want to convince yourself."

"Why do you want tell me to become a believer?", you asked: "Would this change anything in the world?"

"When the blond man and the other, the one with the crossbow, cleaned the wound on your arm, I noticed the long scar, wondering if you had ever asked for help from God. Rick, your leader told me a few things about you, do you really think it's all just luck?"

You chuckled nervously and couldn't formulate an appropriate answer, something to finish this speech immediately. The scar... Who knows what the sheriff had told him?

"Excuse me, it wasn't my intention to be intrusive.", you said and left the room without saying a word, shocked by his speech.

You scanned the benches with your eyes in search of Rick and clearly ignored the others, wondering what had happened. They probably saw your nervousness. You opened the other door and saw the sheriff sitting on the steps. But when the impulse to show him all the fury you had almost imploded, you saw in his arms the little Judith, who was sleeping happily. You stopped and sighed uneasily. Rick looked at you with interest and whispered, afraid to wake up the little creature.

"Y/N...", he whispered: "I did not mention anything personal... I stayed vague... He told me about the scar, I didn't even know of its existence."

You forgot that detail, that little mistake. Since talking to Beth and Daryl, you assumed that everyone knew it.

"I'm still angry."

"I guarantee you.", he admitted: "I was wrong not to talk to you first, but what do you think about Gabriel?"

"I don't know, I don't really like this guy."

Rick smiled and looked at the baby. He was curious about your opinion, but he had already made his own. Then he frowned.

"Do you want to take Judith for a moment?", he suggested, and you stepped aside to reply, but he was so fast that you already held Judith in your arms.

You didn't have the slightest idea how to protect a baby. So you just stared at her, as if that could give you a sudden enlightenment. The sheriff laughed at you, surprised at how awkward it looked. You tried to calm Judith, but he put his hands on your arms and showed you the movements you were supposed to simulate. Slowly, the gesture became fluid, eliminating the initial awkwardness. It was the second time he touched you. As soon as he realized that you were looking at him seriously, he stepped away from you. He was different when you were alone, he had never been so loving. But you blamed the baby, it was possible she influenced him.

"How are you?", he asked.

"I have no pain thanks to the painkillers."

He cracked his knuckles and played nervously with his hands.

"No, I'm serious.", he said: "Are you sure you're okay?"

You rolled your eyes: "You're asking about the scar, aren't you? I'm fine, damn it, Rick. What happened back then is over."

"Always on the defensive...", he said, referring to you: "I meant in general."

"Why are you asking me this?"

He snorted and began compulsively to move his left leg.

"Because I'm not feeling well.", he said abruptly.

You hugged the little girl as if she could see that her father was angry.

"Rick...", you suggested: "If it would help you to talk about it, then talk."

"I don't give myself peace, knowing that these cannibals are still alive makes me crazy."

You thought about what you could say to him, but there were no sentences that could alleviate that sense of revenge and hate. You may have understood it too much.

"I can understand what you're feeling.", you honestly admitted: "I would love to kill each of them for what they did."

He looked at you in surprise, he had expected no such revelation.

"Anyone else would have told me to put hate aside and to look forward, because those people were still humans, somehow..."

"You knew I wouldn't give you this trivial answer, or am I wrong?"

He shrugged, but pleased to learn that he wasn't the only person who thought so.

"They will get what they deserve."

"One day...", you added and he seemed calmer, as if he had freed himself from this burden. His leg also stopped moving frantically.

"Y/N...", he said: "I probably have to apologize..."

You opened your eyes and smiled.

"For what reason?", you asked curiously.

He then turned to you and just stared at you for a few seconds, as if he didn't have the guts to tell you something. Suddenly you felt your blood freeze. You didn't want to believe it... You stood firmly in your position as if you had cemented yourself. You didn't have the courage to move a finger. His face slowly approached yours until you felt his beard against your chin. His lips almost pressed against yours, gently touching them with uncertainty. You saw the scene in slow motion, as if you couldn't escape what was happening... Then, without realizing it, your mouth allowed your tongues to hug and enjoy each other...


	26. Chapter 26

They say that when we are close to death, all of life passes in a split second before our eyes, but at that moment you weren't in danger or wanted to leave this world, but the past was still projecting on it... This premature kiss from Rick and this sudden action of yours had completely disorientated you. This contact had created moments, pleasant memories, and less pleasant memories. All the people you're connected to, with whom you had a relationship. In addition to the high school kids, a teammate, were the latest pictures of your dead friend. Quite different was this figure in the moment of need and helped you not to lose heart. He gave you a reason, a purpose, to continue this endless struggle of survival. That's why you couldn't understand what happened. What does that mean? You didn't understand yourself, you had done nothing to avoid contact to escape this kiss. As if you had unconsciously wished it in a sense. But you had never looked at Rick differently from a good new friend or leader of the group, you had never focused on his physical appearance and you weren't attracted to him. You hadn't been indifferent the whole time, even now that you had his face next to you to lose yourself in his eyes. He looked at you as if trying to understand your thoughts and understand your state of mind. As soon as you heard that he wanted to say something, you immediately put Judith in his arms, as if you wanted to get away from them. At that moment, you heard a noise behind you. You turned around and saw the door open.

"We don't 've many supplies anymore...", Daryl informed: "I'm goin' huntin', hopin' to find somethin', otherwise we've to go back to the village, which I would like to avoid..."

You got up, happy that someone had bothered you and wiped your hands on your pants.

"I'll go with you.", you said.

The sheriff looked down and as Daryl approached, he reached out and locked the entrance with his arm.

"Ya' ain't goin' anywhere...", he said abruptly.

"I lay in bed for several days.", you replied insulted: "A little time outside would be good for me."

Daryl didn't lower his arm and still glared at you. "Ya' would only disturb 'nd fuckin' annoy me..."

You lowered yourself to go under his arm and clearly ignored him. But the archer held you by the shirt and moved away from the door.

"What the hell?", he snapped: "What don't ya' understand 'bout that, besides, ya' can't walk well enough with this fucked up leg."

Strangely, he smiled nervously. There was something about him that he hid. The reason had to be something else.

"Then the problem is the leg, yes?"

He pointed with his forefinger at you. "Sam 'nd the others said-..."

"Are you kidding me? Since when are you interested in what others say?", you interrupted. Daryl opened his mouth to yell at you, but little Judith burst into sobs. Rick walked past you and entered the church without any problem, as Daryl had lowered his arm.

"If you don't want me by your side, just say it instead of lying to me.", you whispered, leaving him alone.

You then went madly into the room, which was meanwhile called your room, or the infirmary. As soon as Sam saw that you were moving in that direction, he was happy.

"Blessed be Jesus Christ!"

The others chuckled except for Father Gabriel. The little girl's screams echoed in those old walls, alarming Beth, who came to rescue Judith's father from the crying creature. You closed the door behind you and snorted. You wanted to be alone to reflect on how you usually do, even though it came closer to mental torture. Daryl was always right about one thing, that you could be in trouble all the time... Of course it wasn't a dangerous situation now, but it was so embarrassing and complicated. You tapped your fingers on the mattress and tried to calm down slowly. You couldn't ignore the people in the next room, especially now that you had found each other again. And so you took a deep breath and waited a few minutes until you had the courage to get up again when the door opened.

"We have to talk.", the sheriff explained.

"There is no need."

But he closed the door anyway and implicitly insisted. "Let me explain it to you..."

"Rick, seriously, I don't need a speech, an explanation or anything that you have in mind.", you replied but he didn't move away from the door and explained that he wouldn't let the matter rest.

"I'm sorry, okay?", he said nervously: "I don't even know why I did it, I acted instinctively. To be honest, it's been a long time since I behaved like that. I didn't thought of the possible consequences..."

You shook your head. "You can't do that to me, Rick. I'm confused, I can't be distracted by these pointless situations. You can't act so out of the blue, kiss me and then apologize. I don't care, but please stay away from me."

You were so sorry to talk to him like that, but otherwise your mind would have collapsed. You needed space. Not that you didn't trust the sheriff, but you wanted to avoid this situation.

"I'm going crazy...", he hissed: "I don't recognize myself anymore. I kill enemies... Even people, survivors like us, and I feel nothing. Absolutely nothing, in fact I'm happy. Joe... I bit into his carotid artery like a mad beast Y/N. I'm not like that... I was never like that. You met me in the prison and I was already changed. And I know it makes no sense, but when I talk to you, I feel better, you can calm me down."

You didn't know if you should be angry or sad. It's true, you didn't know what it was in the past, but that was not important anymore. You were somehow shocked that you could calm him down. You didn't do anything special, you just talked a little...

"What we once were, you have to forget... These people no longer exist, just like the old world. Only actions, words, and present situations are important. If you had been as innocent as you were years ago, do you really believe that you would have survived? Rick, I don't know what changed you recently, but let's pretend that this kiss didn't happen, discussing it makes no sense..."

You looked at each other silently and lowered your eyes. The tension was broken. Nevertheless, the voices of the others reached you and they seemed to speak softly. Maybe you were exaggerating and too problematic, but a kiss for you was something special, nothing frivolous.

He confessed: "It helps me to talk to you, however, I agree, let's forget it, and if we talk about it now, it would only make things worse."

You smiled at him, although it was forced. He became serious, authoritarian, as if he had returned to the role of leader. You sighed in relief, hoping that things wouldn't change between you. You didn't want embarrassing looks, you didn't want to be afraid to talk in the group or make decisions. Finally, you had to think of something else now. Theoretically, you had decided to wait for the other team led by Abraham. If they have problems along the way, they would come back. You had given him a period of several days, partly because of the difficulties on the highway. Many roads were blocked, but you hoped they would find a way out. At this point it would be good if Eugene really had the ability to endure everything... Nevertheless, you decided to turn to the others, you were too isolated. Sasha talked to her brother, they seemed so happy. Rick sat down next to Beth and Judith. Carl commented on a comic that Michonne had given him and joked with her. Sam, on the other hand, was outstretched and didn't care about others, just like Carol, who seemed away with her thoughts. So you decided to get close to her, after all, she had saved your life in Terminus. She sat on a bench, isolated from everything and everyone. She probably didn't want to be disturbed, but you tried anyway.

"Hey.", you said carefully. She looked at you with her bright eyes and smiled as if she wanted to cheer you up.

"I haven't thanked you because of Terminus yet.", you added.

"You would have done the same thing."

"Is everything alright?", you asked her and she waved you to sit down. "It's all right.", she confirmed.

There was nothing remarkable about the faded memories. You leaned against the wooden back of the bench, as if you were sinking into this object and wanted to drop from all circumstances. The effort you had in Terminus, the escape, the wounds... It was as if you had reached the top of patience, as if you had no hope left. The positivity had completely disappeared and left room for the darkest feelings. You started giving up what you didn't really want to repeat. Even if they told you there was some sort of protection a few miles away, any structure that could have suited you, you wouldn't have moved your damn ass off that bench. Beth sighed loudly and told everyone how bored she was. The girl straightened her braid and went to the door to return the little girl to the sheriff. She opened the door with a certain indifference, but Tyreese instantly jumped up, as if afraid for her. She turned around and beckoned to him with her hand to sit down and not to worry. It pleased you to notice the good connection between them. You leaned your head back and looked at the ceiling despite the uncomfortable position. You couldn't help but think, your mind wandered about without obvious logical order or meaning. You tilted your head a little and peered out of a gap in the barricaded window into the sky, the only small square clear of the wooden planks that had fortified the fortifications. No one dared to bother you and you weren't interested in the dialogues either. When you decided to lift your ass off the surface, you searched for Beth's face. She hadn't returned yet. Tyreese opened the door loudly and made you realize that she had left without your noticing. Rick immediately gave Carl the baby and approached him with a questioning face, although he had already understood.

"She isn't near anymore!"

You got up and stared at Michonne and Carol, waiting for their suggestions. The sheriff grabbed his weapon and was ready to run into the clearing.

"Something must have happened to her!", Michonne said nervously.

"You're a good shooter, right?", Rick asked Sasha. She nodded and reached for the rifle.

"Good. Carl, Tyreese, Sasha and Carol. You stand guard here, the rest will come with me.", Rick ordered.

Gabriel closed his hands in prayer and whispered words to God. Carl wanted to answer, but fell silent. It also made no sense to take you with them because you weren't in good shape at all and would slow them down in search. But as soon as you were equipped, you joined them outside. Sam seemed to be surprised, although you had the choice. You went together for a while and after marking a tree you all were ready to split up in the area. Looking up at the sky from the dense branches, you could watch a few clouds expand. Sam noticed the difficulty of moving smoothly and warned Rick with a critical look. Although he didn't notice, he felt guilty and slowed down so that you could reach the exact point where he was. He frowned at you and held the gun.

"I don't mind.", he said in a low voice and a slight smile escaped you.

"The fact that we haven't discussed doesn't mean that I didn't want to go with you to search for Beth."

Walking next to him as if nothing had happened had a strange effect on your mind. He checked that Michonne and Sam were at the right distance so as not to listen.

"That I don't mind having you here has nothing to do with what happened between us, on the contrary, I wanted you to go."

"Why the hell did you want me with you?", you asked.

"Because you're smart, Y/N.", he said: "I like how you think, how you act in times of danger. You survived and not just physically."

Michonne stopped suddenly when you wanted to answer him and pointed to smoke, which dissolved in the blue-gray sky. A clear sign of the presence of humans.

"We should go from several sides."

"Good.", you hastily said. "I'm going with Sam."

Rick didn't protest, partly because there wasn't much point in arguing. This would clearly show that something was wrong between you. Sam cheered silently, because he was slightly intimidated by Michonne... You went different ways and waved to each other with a nod. When you were further away from the others, you heard a walker and Sam wanted to turn back immediately. You grabbed the knife, but before you could jump on it, you stumbled backwards over a root and crawled back to make space between it and you. As soon as Sam noticed, he buried his machete in his chest.

"In the head, damn it!", you shouted to him.

However, this ridiculous situation immediately took a different turn. Other walkers came to you. You tried to get up again, saw Sam in the walker's distress, and rammed the blade into his skull, just enough to notice he was collapsing on the ground. You forced Sam to run immediately and you didn't have to repeat it twice. The escape was painful... With every step you took, it felt like the wound was reopening. A uncomfortable feeling. When you were far enough away, you asked for mercy and he immediately gave up his grip as if he came back from a trance effect. You put your hands on your knees and leaned your back forward. Sam chuckled and put a hand in front of his mouth. You shook your head and meanwhile returned to breathing normally.

"You're fucking crazy.", you joked: "It looked like you didn't have the slightest idea what to do."

"I panicked!", he defended himself: "But how are you?"

"Don't change the topic.", you replied, limping back to the smoke.  
He flanked you as you moved, lifting one of your arms around his shoulders and resting on your side with his right hand. You appreciated this gesture. You never admitted that you needed help, so you were glad he had spontaneously offered it to you.

"Sam, how many of the walkers have you already killed?", you asked and the three questions immediately came to your mind...

"Very few.", he confessed: "I always had people who did that for me."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Why should I ever kill people? I'm not a liar, I was alone for some time after the death of Ana. Then I met Brian and to be honest, it's me who stuck to him like a burdock. But he was a pretty quiet guy, hardly spoke."

In the distance you could see the outline of a building, you were very close. You broke away from Sam and crouched behind a tree. He followed you, kneeling between the tree and a bush and keeping well hidden. You saw a cemented open space and an L-shaped structure. It looked like a primary school because some drawings hung on the windows. A small group of people turned away and didn't allow you to see their faces. But you didn't see Beth among them. They were sitting on the ground, busy eating grilled meat. You moved along the perimeter, watching for where you moved your feet. But the men suddenly stood up and brandished their weapons. Some shots sounded in the forest.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!", Sam whispered.

People ran in the direction of the shots and left the school building. It was Rick who caught their attention. You thought about the different hypotheses and quickly rejected the improbable.

"Run to the others, you have to help them from another side.", you said and he took the weapon with trembling hands.

"And you?", he asked: "I can't go alone, I can't!"

You tugged at him and grabbed him by the collar.

"Yes, maybe, but they need you now!", you urged him: "I can't run! Just run through the clearing while I try to find out more."

Then he hugged you in a hasty motion and hurried to the others. You now went to the grill and looked at their objects. There was nothing special, bags, a knife, a bottle of water. As if they didn't know what it means to live outside. They had a few strips of meat on the grill and bones on the ground. You took a few steps back, still staring at those damn bones. They didn't belong to an animal, but to a human... The people you saw... Maybe they were from Terminus, or maybe they're other cannibals with the same lifestyle. They were dangerous individuals, you should have dealt with them as soon as possible. You tried to push away the disgusting thought that clung to your head, but a streak of blood distracted you. A corpse was probably dragged around and put in a corner of the school. Probably the same person who had a part of his leg amputated. You looked back at the bones and the trail of blood and kept repeating the same sentence: "Please, don't let it be Beth. Please..."

You leaned against the wall and almost dragged yourself over it. You didn't want to look to see who the victim was, but something told you to do it. Maybe Rick had caught those people's attention just to allow you and Sam to rescue her. You held your breath, and after staring at the bloodstain for a long time, you looked out to see who that person was...


	27. Chapter 27

The world collapsed around you. A sting in your heart swept through you and blocked your breath for a split second. Tears began to flood your cheeks immediately and your neck contracted painfully. Beth was there, right in front of you, mutilated and soiled with her own blood. She raised her blue eyes to you and shouted apologies. Besides suffering, there was a plea for forgiveness in her iris. She felt guilty because she had left, thinking she was safe. You dropped to your knees and plunged into the arterial circulation. She had a temporary bandage, but the wound wasn't cauterized. Judging by the blood, she had lost way too much. Her skin was pale, like the moon. You put her face in your hands, tried to give her some strength and touched her cheeks, pulling her golden hair out of her face and holding her to you. As much as you tried to banish these pictures, she kept an eye on you. It was like experiencing that awful moment again. But now things would have been different. Beth, you could save her...

"You're not alone. I've found you, Beth. We came here for you, don't worry... Everything will be alright, okay?", you whispered: "Trust me."

She agreed with her eyes, she was so weak. It gave you the impression that she would lose her senses at any moment. You positioned yourself to grab her and carry her in your arms.

"Please try to stay awake..."

Beth screamed, she was sure to die soon. You took a deep breath and pulled her up. She stifled a cry and put her mouth between your neck and your shoulder.

"If you sleep, don't dare to give up. Stay with me, you understand?", you ordered gently.

She hummed a soft tune with her lips, but it was enough to make sure she wouldn't fall asleep. You were forced to walk through the forest and you knew the smell of blood would lure the walkers, but there was no other way. With every swift step, the pain in your thigh made your teeth clench. In the midst of nature, you tried to return to the point that you had marked, but no one was waiting for you. The forest was silent and you heard no shots. You dismissed the thought that something might have happened to them. Presumably they had reached the church directly or were forced to make a detour. You forced yourself on, though your arms weakened. You couldn't remember that you had so much distance from the church to the school, but the path seemed endless. Because of the pulsating and annoying pain, you went on with difficulty, and the clearing expanded more and more. You were afraid that you couldn't reach the church on time because Beth had to be taken care of immediately. Suddenly the song ended and the girl lowered her eyelids. You gently put your chin on her forehead and felt a change in temperature. Fever was rising, the wound was infected... You shook her a little, only to allow her to open her eyes again.

"I can't do it...", she apologized in a shaky voice: "I feel like I have to close my eyes."

"You can do it, you're strong, Beth! We're almost there, don't give up now!"

"Will I get a prosthesis like Daddy?", she asked with a spark of hope.

"Better.", you encouraged her.

Her voice helped you grit your teeth and to move on. If you thought about how your thigh hurts, you would change your mind, considering the pain Beth would have to have without part of her leg. Everything right now reminded you of your little sister. You could never have overcome another similar loss. This time you wouldn't have failed. You have continued on this path with this goal. After a mile you lowered yourself to go under a branch and saw the church, including some of your group, standing guard. As soon as you emerged from the green, you saw a crossbow pointed at you, which fell immediately to the ground. Daryl looked at you distraught and shocked. You looked at the others and no one dared to approach you as if they didn't want to accept this picture. You were both covered in blood, Beth's blood... After a fraction of seconds of seemingly endless minutes, Tyreese took Beth in his arms and ran in with Sam, ready to do anything. Daryl angrily hit the wall and followed the two men. Carol was statuesque as always, her facial muscles weren't tormented, but her irises gleamed. The sheriff's son and Sasha were inside, so you couldn't see their emotional reactions, unlike Michonne, who had lowered her head, but her hands clenched into fists. Rick stared motionless at the entrance to the church. You approached him and should have sat down, but at that very moment you thought of something else. The worry was too big. Without opening his mouth, he spoke as if questioning and murmured through his beard.

"The first thing I noticed was Gareth's face. I wanted to see him dead. I couldn't let them approach the church but then I noticed from a corner of the building blond hair. I thought... I thought that nothing had happened to her, that we arrived on time."

"That bastard is still alive.", Michonne said: "We have to get rid of this asshole."

You felt your heartbeat quicken, as if you were in a kind of limbo until then. The adrenaline disappeared and left you without any immune system. Fear, anger and despair took over. You checked your hands with blood and an accurate picture appeared before your eyes. You took a few steps forward, wanted to get away from the two to get some air, but because of the leg you fell to the ground.

"Y/N!", the sheriff shouted and ran to you. You knelt in the grass with your eyes empty, staring at the blood Beth had left behind. Suddenly you fell into a tearless, hysterical scream that was characterized only by uncontrollable sobs. You lived through this loss again. Everything seemed so real to you. Rick took your head in his hands and tried to make you concentrate on his face.

"Y/N, what's going on?", he said nervous: "Everything will be fine, Beth will make it, I'm sure."

Michonne appeared behind you and stood staring at you as if studying you. You still looked down and remembered the lifeless body of your little sister.

"I didn't make it.", you sobbed: "I couldn't save her."

The sheriff shook you and thought you would come back to reality.

"Hey, look at me.", he ordered: "You saved her, got it? Sam and Tyreese take care of her."

You then mumbled your sister's name and Rick turned around as if Michonne could give him clues.

"Who the hell is that supposed to be?", the woman asked.

The sheriff turned his head away because he didn't know and returned to you. He stared at you with regretful eyes, he didn't know the person you had lost, but he understood the pain. Anyway, he didn't know how to calm you or block this condition.

"She has a nervous breakdown.", he said, explaining his hypothesis.

Michonne looked at you more closely and put a hand on her hip. She did not seem to agree.

"Y/N, please, listen to me.", Rick pleaded: "We have to be strong to face anything that is coming. If we let ourselves be touched by emotion we'll eventually die, do you understand that?"

"Probably more of a panic attack.", Michonne said abruptly, moving the sheriff aside: "Leave her to me, I'll take care."

She then grabbed your neck to pull you up a bit. "There's no time for this nonsense!", she said annoyed to you.

"Michonne! Stop!", Rick screamed.

She glanced at him and then she struck you without restraint and you got a strong slap on your cheek. Your head snapped to one side and for a moment everything seemed to vibrate. The hallucinations became blurred until they disappeared.

"Don't you think you exaggerated?", Rick murmured: "That was not necessary!"

Michonne let go, satisfied with the gesture she made. You didn't accuse her, although your face now clearly had the signs of this action.

"It helped me.", you admitted: "Thank you."

Rick was a little taken aback, but then he helped you get up. You couldn't load your leg anymore, you practically destroyed it. Michonne nodded to you as if she wanted to say: "No problem.". When you were close enough to the entrance, but still far from the door, it opened. Daryl emerged from these four walls, wiped his hands with a rag and tried to remove the blood. He was about to say something about Beth's condition, but as soon as he saw you he immediately changed the subject.

"What the hell happened?", he asked.

"Something.", Michonne answered dryly and he threw the rag away and pointed to her face, then went on.

"Really?", he asked ironically: "What did ya' do?"

Although it was Michonne who wanted to answer, Daryl stared at the sheriff who was holding you in his arms.

"She helped me.", you said quickly, but the archer didn't give up.

"I see...", he underlined, referring to the five fingers on your cheek.  
"Beth 's stable for now. We can't help but wait 'nd hope."

You then gestured to Rick to leave. You felt the strong need to make sure she was stable, that Beth was still breathing. Michonne did the same and followed the sheriff as if it were her shadow. Daryl stood there instead, looking at you as if he had a lot to say but nothing to confess. You reached out to touch the steps to lean on them and not lift the painful leg. The archer leaned forward to help you, but you ignored that gesture and finally brought your ass to the ground. You've had ups and downs these years, but you've always managed not to sink into depression or despair completely. But now you couldn't recognize yourself. You turned your palms so you could watch the dry, sticky blood. You felt dirty, touched by death. As if he could feel that feeling, Daryl advised you to come in.

"Ya' should change yer clothes.", he said.

The intention was there, but it did not depend on you. You wanted to stumble a thousand times instead of asking him for the umpteenth time. For him, you're just a weak girl who had to constantly have someone behind him who could take care of the probable victim in order to always escape into dangerous situations. You didn't want to be considered as such, so you got up quickly, though with caution, and reached the entrance in silence. When you're inside, Carl came up to you and looked eagerly at the bloodstains on your clothes.

"Are you hurt?", he asked worriedly: "Dad said you saved her, but-..."

"I'm fine.", you interrupted, calming him down. He sighed slowly, looked at his feet and you put my hand on his shoulder.

"Everything will be alright Carl, we just need a new prosthesis."

The boy didn't seem completely convinced. He didn't want to be fooled by a positive outcome, because lately there was none. As soon as you looked away, you noticed that Father Gabriel was staring at you, petrifying the trail of blood on the ground, as if everything had disturbed him. Sasha, however, continued to let Judith dangle in her arms while Carol didn't lose sight of her. You crossed the room and passed Gabriel, only to hear whispers like prayers, and closed the bathroom door behind you. At that moment, you held your thigh in your hands and groaned inwardly. The stitches had opened despite the tight bandage. You slowly took off your pants and tried not to touch the damaged area. The bandage was soaked in blood. As you removed the last inch of the bandage from your skin, the door moved with a slight tap.

"Y/N...", Sam said softly: "May I?"

"No!", you replied annoyed and put the bandage on the sink and tried to clean the wound.

"Then I'll come in anyway."

The door swung open immediately without giving you the time to answer.

"I just wanted to see how your leg is doing."

Yes, the world you knew is dead, but you were still embarrassed by such things. In any case, you ignored him. He then became serious again and you stared at the ceiling as if pretending that he was not there. To pretend that you're feeling comfortable, you asked him about Beth.

"Daryl told us she could do it?", you asked and he answered you without taking his eyes off the wound.

"Yes, she will.", he replied, but he made you realize that he was not convinced at all.

"I want the truth."

"I told it.", he answered and you pushed him away so you could look into his eyes, but what you saw petrified me. He cried.

"What shall I tell you?", he sobbed: "Beth is going to die... You are not stupid, you've seen in what conditions she is..."

You grabbed his shirt and clutched the cloth between your fingers. "No, that's not true!", you stammered in confusion.

"I lied, okay?", he explained, wiping his tears off. You leaned your forehead against his chest and shook your head as if to deny these words.

"You gave me hope.", you said in a trembling voice: "You just let me thought she could be saved!"

"I'm sorry...", he said and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Beth dies and you're here! Pretending nothing's going to happen!", you continued.

You pulled up your pants as fast as you could and left the room. You ran to the other room and tried to open the door, but your hand didn't want to lower the handle. Your body did not respond, as if to tell you that it was not appropriate to see her, risking another stupid nervous breakdown. You're ashamed, but went out again and avoided Carol, even though you realized she wanted to talk to you. As soon as the sun hit you, you breathed with relief. You were so angry that you were afraid to explode.

"Don't ya' want to change clothes?", asked the archer.

Daryl leaned against the wall of the church, the crossbow between his hands and his watchful eyes, facing the clearing. You didn't even notice his presence. Instinctively, you checked your clothes and watched the blood.

"What are you doing out here? Why-..."

"Guard.", he interrupted you: "If those fuckin' bastards 're still alive. They must die."

The branches of the trees swayed like little waves because of the wind, if only slightly. Daryl was right, those assholes were bound to reappear. You all had to be ready. You couldn't afford to be overrun. But you were sure that Rick was already thinking of a plan.

"Can you come in?", Sam interrupted and looked out the door: "I have to talk to you all."

You exchanged a look. He had the courage to report the news. Daryl immediately understood that something was wrong and didn't broaden the subject. When he saw that you weren't following them, he handed you the crossbow. This weapon reminded you of those days after the Governor's attack when you were carrying it on your shoulders. It had been a while, but it seemed like yesterday. And you were tired of seeing people die, both those you had near you and those you didn't really know. But in a remote part of your consciousness, you knew that you wanted death...

~

The night had quietly fallen on you and covered you like a magical cloak. The stars were barely visible, a hint of light here and there in the deepest darkness. You would have liked to see this beauty in a different, brighter context. Your old family, army mates, friends. Instead, you found yourself there, sitting on a broken suitcase, clutching Beth's fingers in your hands. You heard no sound, except the girl's imperceptible faint breath. Sam said she didn't have much time left. That's why you all decided to say goodbye. You think she understood, didn't talk much, but her eyes told enough. You didn't want to present yourselves with gloomy and resigned faces, but the emotions betrayed you. You all felt guilty. It happened so suddenly, without you actually being able to do anything. Nevertheless, you have shown yourselves responsible.

"It's a nice night to die...", she sighed and smiled.

"I wish I could forbid you to leave...", you said with tears in your eyes.

"It's thanks to you that I'm here... That I can die in this bed, surrounded by people I love.", she said wearily.

It was very difficult to hold back tears, but you smiled and hugged her like she was your little sister. You didn't answer, but it was as if you had done it. The door opened slowly, revealing that the person on the other side was in no way bothering. It was Tyreese. As soon as the door closed, you felt like an avalanche of emotions. It was hard to stay motionless. You tried to hide your tears and hurried to the wooden staircase of a small back room that led to the roof. As soon as you rested your knees on those cold shingles, you reluctantly noticed that you weren't alone.

"From here you have a great view.", Rick said softly.

You took a deep breath and gasped for the courage to talk to him about what had happened between you two lately. You pretended to be okay, but in reality you had made things worse and caused more tension between you than necessary.

"Rick? I know, it's not the time to discuss it..."

"But you still want it.", he finished the sentence and you confirmed it.

"I wanted to apologize, that's all. I know I reacted wrong."

At that moment he looked away from the clearing.

"To be honest, I still don't know why I did it, but in any case, I hope that doesn't ruin our friendship. We need to stick together.", he said.

You looked at him as if to confirm his speech and smiled. But then you started to cry again. It was a kind of outbreak. You didn't want to accept that Beth wouldn't survive. Besides, you were sure that Abraham and the others would come back with bad news. And then there's Maggie... You felt like you had all arrived at the end. These little salty drops danced over your cheeks and covered your face without being accompanied by sobs. Since it was dark, you weren't worried about Rick. You took it for granted that he couldn't notice. Instead the sheriff held out his right arm as if to grab you, but he stayed in the air to invite you. Instinctively, without too many problems with this gesture, you approached and rested your head on his shoulder. He took you in his arms and you stared at the grassy ocean full of different plants. You weren't ashamed of this contact, you felt that you needed it. And as your were hands wet with your tears, you realized how urgent it really was. After all, you weren't the only person to cry on this tragic night.  
But a sudden explosion woke you from this dream, from this fleeting feeling of peace...


	28. Chapter 28

The air became warm and the nature around you lit up. A high flame rose in the dense foliage and spread slowly. You immediately reached the others, walked down the corridor, ignoring the questions and chatter of others. You all wondered what had happened, what could happen there, and not very far away. The suspicion immediately fell on Gareth and his gang. Your heart started to beat incredibly fast.

"What the hell is going on here?", Michonne asked, as if some of you had an idea.

"I don't know.", Rick said worriedly: "But we should check it out."

"Are you sure?", Sam asked: "Maybe we should barricade ourselves here."

"And wait?", Carol answered: "No, no way."

"It's also possible that someone needs help, we can not just stay here and do nothing.", you added.

"Y/N 's right, we gotta go.", urged Daryl.

Rick divided you into two groups. You, Daryl, Tyreese and Sasha would have gone ahead with him while the others defended the church. But Carl protested.

"But Dad, I want to go too! I can help!"

"I want you to stay with your sister and Beth, you have to protect them and I know you can do it, okay?"

It seemed strange to you that he hadn't brought Michonne with him. But when you thought about it, you needed someone who could deal with the situation in case of real danger, and she was undoubtedly capable of doing so.

"Nonsense!", Sam shouted: "Maybe someone just threw a Molotov cocktail and we only overreact."

"Do ya' really think such an explosion with such high flames 's due to a fuckin' Molotov?", Daryl shouted at him.

You admired Daryl at that moment and Sam fell silent. You walked quickly and carefully through the dense trees, careful not to trip. Sasha and her brother separated from you to take care of the fire. As soon as you, Rick, and Daryl arrived at the blast site, you noticed immediately that a truck had fallen on a side street. Someone had deliberately set fire to the vehicle and suddenly a huge herd of walkers appeared along the road, attracted by the loud noise.

"It's a damn trap!", the archer yelled angrily.

"They wanted us here for a reason.", Rick said, looking around. Then you heard gunshots nearby.

"Damn shit!", you exclaimed: "They wanted to separate us! We must go back immediately!"

You didn't wait a minute longer and ran like crazy, trying to get to the church as soon as possible. The shots undoubtedly showed that Tyreese and Sasha already had a chance to collide with the cannibals. You didn't feel any pain in your leg right now, but you knew it was just adrenaline. As you emerged from the forest, you noticed Michonne running toward Sasha, who was holding her left arm with a sore face. She had been hit.

"Sasha, Michonne!", Rick yelled: "Where's Tyreese?"

Carl, flanked by Carol, came out of the church and held a pistol in his hand.

"What happened?", the boy shouted.

"It 's a damn trap.", Daryl exposed.

"They're coming.", Sasha said: "We've been watching some of them closely, but as soon as we realized that others are coming here, we immediately turned around to warn you all. Tyreese was right behind me... I-... "

You saw how she had dreaded her brother's life, she was afraid that something had happened to him. Michonne flinched and avoided running to find him. You had to position yourselves and be prepared. A shot echoed... Someone had shot in the air. The same one who came to you. Gareth.

"What a beautiful place!", he said ironically, aided by his men: "Wouldn't it be nice if this place were destroyed and surrounded by walkers?"

Then, as they were closer and more visible, you saw Tyreese's profile. The boss aimed a gun at the back of his head and challenged you. Sasha immediately took the shotgun with the intention of shooting without losing herself in unnecessary conversation, but Gareth stopped her.

"You shoot and I do the same."

You all exchanged looks, talking without opening your mouths. It was a very delicate situation, difficult to manage.

"What do you want?", Rick asked: "We can find an agreement."

You immediately turned towards the sheriff, incredulous to have heard such words. Gareth smiled.

"Are you crazy?", Carl protested.

You understood his astonishment, but you were sure Rick had a plan. Carol seemed to tremble, she would still resist. Daryl, on the other hand, was immobilized. He wanted to break the faces of these soulless monsters, but a naive act would have given the context a decidedly bitter turn.

"What I want? That seems obvious.", he pointed out to you: "I want to see you all dead."

You had no time to scream when the bullet came out of the barrel and pierced Tyreese's skull, which fell to the ground like a dry autumn leaf. Sasha screamed and shot random shots as if she had a machine gun in her hand. Michonne tried to calm her, but rightly there was little to do. Rick lunged at Gareth and swung his machete. A few of them fell to the ground and were hit by Sasha's bullets. You lunged at them and stabbed them savagely, as if you wanted to punish them for any life they had unfairly appropriated. The hangmen were the victims. Gabriel looked at you in horror from the window. Instinctively, you looked at your body and came back to reality for a moment. You jumped up and shook your head as if to deny it. It seemed impossible to believe that you had such anger and frustration in you. You looked around and hoped that no one had seen your scene, but you were ironically calmed by this worry. You weren't the one who did the worst. Gareth was dead and lying on the ground. His body, his face was no longer recognizable. Rick massacred him... The fight ended earlier than you thought, but none of you seemed to have understood. You killed these monsters without realizing and it was liberating. Your bloodied hands began to tremble and you moved away from this carcass. Meanwhile, Carl was petrified. He glared at his father with icy eyes and could not understand if he was disgusted or satisfied. You heard a hysterical scream and noticed that Sasha was lying on the ground in the damp grass. She embraced her brother and tried to cleanse the wound on his head as if it were possible to save him. You wanted to reach her, but your legs didn't move. Then you saw Sam crouching at the corner of the building. You forced yourself and managed to get closer, though everything seemed confused.

"Sam, are you okay?", you stammered.

Whenever you were confronted with a lot of blood, your brain went haywire. You were traumatized.

"Shit, look at you...", he said shocked: "You're a monster like all of them.", he grunted and fled to church.

You started hyperventilating and tried to master this panic attack to slowly regain control of your breathing. Rick threw the machete far away and dropped to the ground. He held his head in his bloody hands. Daryl got his arrows back and looked around contentedly. But when your eyes met, he came to meet you.

"Are ya' wounded?", he asked, beginning to feel your clothes and examine you.

You pushed his hands away. "That's not my blood."

He frowned.

"So?", he asked innocently. You got nervous. How could he be so calm?

"Tyreese is dead and a bunch of walkers is around here... And we've done a massacre."

He grabbed your shoulders and tried to shake you.

"We did what we had to do 'nd ya' know that."

You looked down and he left, helped Carol to move Sasha away from Tyreese's body. Daryl's words were buzzing in your head. Nevertheless, you rejected these thoughts and joined Rick. There was a need for a plan. You couldn't stay here any longer. You had to move and leave. The sheriff stared blankly at what was left of Gareth, ignoring your words.

You grabbed him: "Damn it Rick, listen to me!", you repeated: "We have to go, we can not stay here."

The smell of ashes and death was another proof of how dangerous it was to stay.

"It's over, it's all over...", he mumbled.

He didn't hear you anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit his cheek with the palm of your hand. He responded immediately, grabbed your wrist and looked at you.

"You forced me.", you answered.

He stood up as if he had just awakened from a nightmare.

"We take what we can carry and go, we can't lose time."

He nodded.

"Carl, go and get your sister. Daryl, get our things. Michonne, get the ammunition. Carol, get Gabriel, Sam and-..."

Beth... Shit... You had no way to move Beth except to carry her. But it would have been a great physical effort both for her and for the volunteers. You looked at each other for a solution when the roar of an engine alarmed you. A fire truck appeared at the clearing. Rick aimed, but immediately he lowered the weapon again. You saw Abraham driving it. Eugene climbed onto the roof of the car and fumbled around until he released a huge jet of water. Some burning trees went out. While the two men were responsible to the fire, Rosita, Tara, Maggie, and Glenn ran down to find out what was going on. Once they saw the dead bodies, it was easy to know what had happened.  
None of you dared to say anything until Maggie asked a question: 

"Where is my sister?"

~

The first morning light mingled with the smoke that was still in the air. The fire had been extinguished, and most walkers that caught fire turned away. Maggie had locked herself in her sister's room and still not left it. And Abraham was ridiculed... Eugene was not what he said, what he was. You weren't really surprised, it almost seemed obvious that this situation had something strange about it. In any case, you were at the point, with no hope and no goal. You only decided to move. You threw away your worn out clothes and put on your military shit, along with some worn black jeans. Purifying all the blood had literally relieved you, for it was as if you had been cleansed of death and sin. You flushed your pale face, then left the bathroom and someone tapped your shoulder.

"Hello.", Sam said: "I did not mean it that way..."

"But you said it.", you replied, evasive. 

He stood still and you lay down on one of the benches and stared at the ceiling beams. It was terrible to wait, desperate, because you could do nothing. This feeling devoured you from the inside.

"Do you want to talk?", Father Gabriel asked.

"No, thank you. Ask someone else."

Sasha, for example. She had spent the whole night in a corner of the church without speaking to anyone, even though you had come to her in shifts. As if you said the opposite, he was sitting next to your feet.

"You see, they are not like you."

"I'm a monster."

He looked at you with an indecipherable expression and made you feel uncomfortable.

"I have seen what you have done, and I do not want to deny the bestiality of your actions. We had demons in front of the house of the Lord."

"Fuck off."

He tilted his head slightly, offended by your annoyance.

"The fact is that unlike the others, you understood the horror."

"Do you think they liked it?", you asked angrily.

"I'm just saying that they've already accepted the killing for joy. Think about it, you should go while you still can.", he replied, and walked away without giving you the opportunity to respond in the same way.

You would never have left these people even though you had precarious bonds with some of them. Still, these people are your new family.

"What did that fuckin' bastard want?", Daryl surprised you and stood behind you.

"Nothing special.", you lied.

"As if... He's afraid."

You shrugged and he cleared his throat.

"What's goin' on between ya' 'nd him?", he asked pointing to Rick and you looked at him startled.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

In fact, you prayed with yourself. You hoped he had not seen anything and not known about it.

"Do ya' think I'm completely stupid?", he said angrily: "I saw ya' gettin' started, ya' rushed to him to forget 'bout that famous guy in the notebook who's killed by Joe's people!"

Daryl seemed pleased to have so embarrassed you.

"It's Rick who came up to me and-..."

But his eyes were suddenly cold as ice. He became serious immediately. Then you understood, it was a clever trap from him to see if anything really had happened between you and the sheriff, more than friendship. Daryl had only the suspicion, but now he had a confirmation.

"Damn, I really can't believe it.", he joked: "Didn't expect ya' to be such a fuckin'...", he started, but did not finish the sentence.

You knew what he was going to say and insisted that he finish the sentence.

"Such a simple girl.", he smiled.

You wanted to punch him in the face but stopped yourself. You didn't want to attract attention, and it wasn't time to argue like kids.

"That's typical of you, you're just talking shit. You should avoid condemning us because you don't even know what you're talking about. You just seem jealous.", you said calmly.

He brushed his hair away from his forehead and pretended he was not impressed at all.

"Jealous? I wouldn't fuck ya', even if ya' were the last woman on this damn world!", he grinned.

"Good to know. At least I can remove something like you from the list.", you replied, smiling relaxed.

You then stood up, but as soon as you took a step, the door opened and Maggie appeared with tears in her eyes, causing her to fall to her knees. Beth was gone... Each hastened to support her, to make it clear to her that she was not alone, that you could do it together and you would face anything. Instead, you stopped at a distance and watched this slow motion scene. You knew that all these people, though they felt their affection and gratitude for her, didn't really comfort her. It was a mess of emotions that never ended.

~

The sun stood out on this bright surface, crossed by delicate white clouds. You had been silent for hours and you were tired of staring at the muddy ground. Also, the trees or some walkers weren't more interesting. A small group of them followed you at a very limited speed, but you were ahead, so you had no reason to be worried. You would have had to worry about it later when you needed a break. You had been traveling for days and had to keep your energy as good as possible. For this reason, you dragged on and looked up to the sky, as if you wanted to pretend that nothing was near you. You remember those moments when you were a child, when you lay in the garden next to your mother, and you vied to see as many animals as possible in those faded outlines of the clouds... Sasha and Maggie closed the line and moved forward as if they had been pushed. Glenn occasionally turned to look for signs that told him he could walk beside his beloved wife, but she ignored him. Rick dominated the head of the group, flanked by Michonne, while Carl and Carol followed him confidently, hoping to find a decent place. Tara tried to comfort Eugene, who looked with regret at Abraham. Instead, Rosita tried to make him think, whispering words that were incomprehensible to you at that distance. Daryl went and disappeared from time to time, threw himself into the forest and returned after a mile and then did the same again. It was almost amusing to imagine where he would come out the next time. Sam was ahead of you, but sometimes he asked you to talk, and you pretended not to notice him. He now threw himself back to your side and smiled.

"Nice day, huh?", he said to make you talk.

"Seriously?", you asked annoyed: "You can't think of anything else?"

He sighed and looked down. "I'm here to apologize again, I did not mean to say it, I swear it, I'm sorry... I'm sorry.", he said without breathing.

You grabbed his arm and prevented him from endlessly repeating those words.

"It's forgotten, okay?"

He nodded silently and sincerely smiled. You noticed that Gabriel walked slowly, holding the Bible. You were sure he repeated a prayer for himself, though you didn't see his lips move. Fortunately, Sam seemed to have weighed his conscience, and he didn't bother you with other futile speeches, but just stayed silent. You went on a good few hours before your sense of peace was once again destroyed by Sam.

"Hey, what happened to the asshole?", he whispered, referring to Daryl: "Did you make him angry?"

"Does it always have to be my fault?", you said annoyed. Daryl had just emerged from the vegetation with the most surly expression he could have. Sam raised his hands to the sky.

"It's your boyfriend, not mine."

"You're a masochist.", you said, looking at him with hatred and he turned away with a questioning face.

"You really want to be kicked in your damn ass.", you continued: "Otherwise you would stop talking such a bullshit."

"But it seems to me..."

"This damn asshole is not my boyfriend!", you answered angrily.

"Sorry, I didn't want to..."

You took a deep breath, he was unbearable at the moment.

"Fuck! Stop apologizing every few seconds!", you grumbled and hurried to get away from him.

Luckily he did not follow you. He started to annoy you. Suddenly the group stopped and pointed to an area where you could stop to gain some strength. As soon as you sat down, you were exhausted. You opened the backpack in search of water, but the bottle was practically empty. One sip or two remained. None of you spoke or wanted to exchange opinions about what to do. Were you at the limit? Could be... You had been forced to sleep under a stone bridge, with some pebbles and a few branches. Needless to say, you were all very nervous, ready to shoot out of anger for nothing. Without talking about Abraham, who had found a bottle of whiskey somewhere, maybe from a walker. Your stomach growled, reminding you that a day had passed since the last squirrel had been eaten. You were good enough to keep hunger at bay, though, if you had a chance, you could easily devour an ox. But you tried to keep your primary needs under control, hoping to continue as long as necessary. Not ten minutes later, Rick got up and walked down the street. This man exhausted you, but none of you dared to argue with him. You knew it was for your best. You stretched out your limbs and resumed the marathon knowing that you wouldn't find anything that day.

"Y/N.", Glenn said softly: "May I talk to you for a moment?"

It seemed strange that someone wanted to ask permission to speak, but judging by the mood of others, you understood the gesture.

"Of course.", you reassured him.

"I think that may be a strange request...", he admitted: "But I can not speak to Maggie, I don't think I can help her in this regard."

You began to understand what he meant.

"I'll do my best, do not worry.", you consoled him: "Each of us faces these tragedies in its own way."

He thanked you with his eyes. It was obvious how much love he felt for this girl. And it must have been terrible to be powerless. Besides, you would have liked to talk to Sasha as well. Just when you wanted to stop to allow Maggie to join you, she coughed softly, trying not to be heard. You realized how thirsty she was, judging by the movements of her bottle that hung from the side.

"Hey... Do you want a sip?"

She shook her head as you had expected.

"No, keep it for yourself, thanks anyway."

"I still have water, it's not a problem.", you lied.

Then she changed her mind and carefully took your bottle out of your hands. You kept her pace without saying a word, hoping that she would take the first step. You were aware that a thought came to her mind, but you weren't sure she wanted to reveal it to you.

"Y/N...", she sighed and surprised you: "I talked to Beth a lot... Before she...", she said and stopped. "And she said you found her to bring her to the church."

"Maggie..."

"No.", she replied, a touch of a smile on her trembling lips: "I wanted to thank you..."

You wanted to hug her, hold her close to you as if she were an older sister of yours. But you tried to be discreet. You then found the courage and reached out a hand. You wanted her to understand that you were there, that you knew how she felt. You were sure Glenn had been reporting something about you when you were in the prison, about your story.

"Maggie, you did not have to thank me... But I understand it and she was not alone. Rick, Michonne, Sam... We immediately looked for her."

She smiled.

"But...", you continued: "And I'll be honest. Please don't feel guilty. It will do you good and you'll be happier if you work it out, because unfortunately I've did when it was too late."

She hugged you without any ifs or buts.

"I just wanted to protect her, be with her.", she whispered, squeezing you: "But I failed."

"I was with her...", you said: "We haven't failed, Maggie, we have done our best and we must continue to do so. For her, but also for us."

You glanced at Glenn as you stroked Maggie's back and felt her tears on your neck. She was far away with her thoughts, but judging by the movement of her lips, you recognized two words: Thank you.


	29. Chapter 29

You've done everything to stay awake and focused. You were sure you're dehydrated and almost powerless, but you would have resisted. None of you felt really well... Every stream, pond or puddle you crossed was impure. Besides, it hadn't rained for days. The air was dry, very dry... The sun was heating you with these annoying hot rays. You didn't do anything except to walk or run. Rick didn't want to give up, but the situation was more than critical. Every time you raised your nose you hoped to see some gray clouds, but to your misfortune the sky was always clear and immaculate blue. Sasha flanked you and you thought she wanted to psychoanalyze you. What happened to you as she passed by completely proved you right and confirmed your thesis.

"Don't try it.", she said abruptly as you passed her.

You smiled at her, although you were out of breath. "You can come to me if you want."

Sasha remained speechless, but immediately frowned again. Rick stopped by now and looked around.

"Two of us go along there and two others there.", he said, gesturing left and right to let us hunt: "We others take care of the walkers."

The order was clear and concise, but you were all tired and sweaty. You looked at each other as if you wanted to understand who really had the power to go into the vegetation and hunt. Since you didn't feel like killing more walkers, you suggested yourself. Daryl and Carol went to the right.

"I'll go with you.", Eugene mumbled.

It could have been worse, you thought... He had been an asshole, but at least it was funny, maybe it would have given you a few relieving minutes.

"No.", said Abraham.: "I'll go."

Rosita began to reply, but then she shook her head. Abraham didn't trust the wrong scientist anymore, partly understandable. Anyway, you followed him. His gait was very unsteady and characterized by uncoordinated movements. He almost only had alcohol in the bloodstream and that didn't bode well. You stayed a good distance away from him, avoiding phrases or words that could annoy him. Although you were tired, you tried to make as little noise as possible and examined the area in search of possible tracks. Then Abraham saw a squirrel which, however, escaped him again.

"Damn shit!", he mumbled and threw himself to the ground.

"Abraham...", you said, like an exhausted mother watching her son have a fit of temper.

"Leave me here and go away!", he ordered, throwing the bottle away. "It's over."

You were sitting in front of him with exhaustion. "The whiskey? Yes. The world? Almost.", you replied.

"No, that's the end.", he murmured: "And so do we."

You had to lighten the atmosphere, maybe tease him a bit. "I really didn't expect that from you."

"What do you mean?", he has objected to challenge you.

"I thought you were a man of pride and courage, instead you play the victim, the whiny child, which makes the situation bizarre.", you said and got up suddenly, although you risked falling backwards due to the effort.

Instead, he leaned forward and thought he was about punching you, but his movements were slow, as you had expected.

"Look at you, you don't even have the strength to beat me!"

Then he looked at you with a different expression, removed his anger, and made room for rationality.

"I'm not as strong as you think, I've already lost my wife and my child."

"And do you want to lose Rosita, too?"

"No.", he replied weakly: "That I am here now, is thanks to her."

"Fine.", you smiled: "So don't be an asshole and get up."

And he did it... After another useless and futile search minutes, you decided to go back. Since you hadn't heard a shot, you were sure that they had gotten rid of these few walkers without much trouble, despite the general exhaustion. When you met again, you were disappointed that even Daryl and Carol had returned unsuccessfully. The discomfort was palpable... Rick gestured you all meanwhile to go. You continued nonstop for several hours and Daryl suddenly stopped. He looked at you as if he felt responsible.

"Ain't givin' up.", he said: "I'm goin' to hunt."

He set off without waiting for Rick's opinion, though he knew how much he loved having the situation under control.

"Stay in the area!", the sheriff warned. 

Daryl disappeared into nature, you resumed your journey and occasionally glanced at the clearing in the hope that the archer would appear with a good prey. But time passed and your mouth became drier. You turned around and noticed how slowly you moved forward. Some walkers followed you and moved faster. They would have reached you in a few minutes. But it was the beginning of hunger and hardship. You had to find a solution. Anyway, you hurried to warn them of the impending danger. You positioned yourselves in parallel in two rows and distanced yourselves from what was sufficient to control the 'cleaning'. One by one, the walkers appeared and stumbled toward one of you. Holding your knife, you concentrated on the fluid movement of the living dead in front of you. As soon as it was close enough, you put the knife directly in the forehead. But it stuck in the skull, as soft as it was. You couldn't extract it anymore. You didn't have the strength. And so you helped yourself with one foot, kicked the decayed breast and the blade slid out again. Sasha suddenly left her assigned position and threw herself in anger at the walkers. You broke through the lines and flanked them to contain the sprawling herd. Until one of these, now dead walker, finally fell on you. Your legs were shaking, but unable to hold the weight, you fell to the ground. The hit on the tarmac was painful, but you didn't have time to complain, as other walkers attacked you immediately. You saw their faces multiply and darken the white sky. You tried to push away their jaws by holding them with one hand, and put your other hand and the knife in it. They lunged at you one by one, limiting your movements more and more. All you could tell was how Tara and Abraham tried to thin them out.

"Y/N!", Michonne screamed.

Your group was forced to shoot. You heard the bullets piercing the living dead and the distinct sound of their bodies falling to the ground. Eugene and Rosita took the bodies off of you and tried to lighten the weight so you could free yourself. Rick came up behind you, grabbed your arms and pulled you out of the pile. Sam crouched down and examined you for scratches or bites.

"Are you okay?", the sheriff asked gasping: "Were you bitten?"

You were sure that he would soon have a heart attack. Carl looked at you and held the baby in his arms. Abraham threw himself on Sasha and began to yell at her.

"What's your fucking problem?"

She was breathing heavily, a mixture of fatigue and panic attacks, but she did not answer.

"She's okay.", Sam said, making it clear you weren't bitten or scratched.

When you got up, you hesitated a bit, but luckily you managed to find your balance. But actually, you felt very weak, your head hurt and gave you a feeling of dizziness, perhaps because of the impact.

"You're putting everyone at risk, Abraham is right.", Rick said hoarsely, talking to Sasha, who didn't answer again, then you looked around worried.

"What about Daryl? It's strange that he didn't show up when the shots were fired..."

Michonne and Glenn hurried to the street and entered the forest. You looked at Rick and waited for his approval. As soon as he caught your attention and lowered his head and nodded, you forced yourself and went in search of the archer. Your head turned, but at the same time you heard a small voice asking you to look for this man, like an alarm bell. You could hardly imagine that he was in danger, but you were still scared that he wanted to do his own shit. He was able to hide his physical discomfort very well, so he probably fainted somewhere. In the dry and crushed ground, which was decorated by these lines and thin columns, you distinguished those that were due to his footprints. Following the footsteps in that direction, clinging to a branch and creeping by the sight of walkers, you caught sight of his figure in the distance. He seemed healthy. You put your hands on your hips, gasping for air and saw the earth staggering. Daryl turned around as you stepped on a branch, it broke and then he aimed at you with his loaded crossbow until he recognized you.

"It's me!", you announced and he lowered the weapon.

"The hell happened to ya'?", he asked without moving and looked at your bloody clothes: "What 'bout the others?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "They're fine, we just had some problems with walkers..."

"Well then.", he answered monotonously.

"Daryl-...", you started and moved forward.

"Stop!", he suddenly ordered, interrupting you and showing you his palm: "Can't ya' hear it?", he whispered, looking around.

"What's wrong?", you asked innocently and he looked at you.

"Stay quiet.", he whispered, cowering down.

At that moment, you noticed something strange on the surface, as if the leaves and the earth had been added at a later date. You focused on sounds in the area and heard the distinct complaints of a group of walkers. But there was nothing around you... It was as strange as coming from below. As soon as you understood, you glanced at Daryl and noticed that he had the same intuition. You started to speak, but you saw his expression change as if he saw something behind you. He stretched out his arms and called for someone to stop. Time slowed in your eyes... You then saw Sam come to you and the ground collapsed at his feet. His hand, which reached you, grabbed you and you fell with him into this huge pit. Shortly after, you felt a sharp pain and you looked at your hand. Your wrist was dislocated. Sam screamed and tried to tug at you... Gradually, everything returned in a natural way, so even the sounds to you normal again penetrated. You lay on the ground and around us the living dead. Then you looked up at the sky, aware that this was the last day you were living. Your moment has arrived...


	30. Chapter 30

You felt the dusty and dry earth beneath you. You heard the moans of the walkers. You heard Sam pawing to drive them away. You heard Daryl scream your name. You felt that your eyes didn't want to open, you didn't want their scornful faces to be your last memory. You felt like you were going to die, you felt that hole would be a perfect coffin. But then you noticed something strange. They walked past you, climbing over you and ignoring you as if you didn't exist. You opened your eyes and saw the walkers in a corner. Your smell had remained hidden because of her own guts. The previous bloodbath saved your life... Shortly thereafter, you searched for your knife but couldn't find it. Sam has tried to keep them away with his bare hands. Behind one of the walkers, you saw a machete and looked up, only to see Daryl shooting an arrow so you could grab the weapon. You took the machete with one hand and dipped into the small herd. You ran through those rotten bodies and pulled the blade through their skulls as if it were a sword. You felt their hands trying to reach out to pull you to their teeths, but you didn't give up, on the contrary. You took this opportunity to kill the last walker that separated you from Sam, then stood in front of him and heard him complain. Then you saw a liquid which appeared thick and warm. It's blood... You noticed that the few walkers left are focused on Daryl, but he didn't seem to have any problems. So you turned around and grabbed Sam. He was covered in blood. It was all his own...

"They bit me!", he repeated between some sobs: "My arm, they bit me..."

You looked down and hoped innocently that he was wrong. The skin, tendons and muscles had been partially exported from the bones. What was left of it hung down his arm. He had defended himself by instinctively pressing his arms against them. A feeling of nausea hit you and you swallowed hard.

"I don't want to turn!", he shouted: "I don't want to become one of them!"

You studied his arm carefully, trying to find out how far he had been bitten and where you could chop off his arm.

"We can still do it, Sam!", you urged and he started to cry.

"Everything will be fine.", you said to calm him down: "I promise you."

Daryl suddenly appeared next to you, seizing Sam's arm and holding him tight. He screamed in pain, but you knew you shouldn't pay too much attention to that sound at the moment. It was important to remove the arm as soon as possible. You wiped the machete on your pants, sank it into the remaining flesh of his arm, and a heart-rending scream rose to the sky. But it wasn't over yet, the machete hadn't completely cut through the bone. By the way, the archer also prevented other walkers from landing here. He looked at you as if asking you to do it again. And you contented yourself with pushing that blade back into Sam's arm. He fainted from the pain, the blood began to flow abundantly and you tried to contain the wound, holding it with your hands as if it were a water pipe. You prepared to give him a precarious bandage so he wouldn't lose too much blood. You and Daryl urgently needed to reach the others who had the backpack with all the necessary medicines and tools.

"We have to hurry!", you shouted.

"We don't know if...", Daryl said, not saying the rest of the sentence.

"He'll make it.", you answered abruptly, hooking the machete to your belt.

Daryl moved and examined the wall that separated you from the surface. He tried to climb, but the ground was so dry that it crumbled under his shoes and made him fall. It was therefore impossible to get up there and you looked around hastily. Not even a root was there to hold on to.

"Good.", you sighed excitedly: "Pull yourself up on me."

You stood with your back to the wall, positioned your legs, and put your hands together so you could push Daryl up. He looked at you doubtfully and wasn't sure if you could succeed.

"Let's try the opposite.", he advised.

"No, I don't have the strength.", you replied.

He hasn't lost any more time and put your plan into action. The pain permeated you, from the leg to the shoulder. You felt your body completely exhausted, deprived of every little crumb of power and energy, but you knew you needed to keep fighting. You lifted him up a bit, just enough to make sure he could hold on to the edge and pull himself up. When he reached the top, Daryl stretched out his arms. It was very difficult and the fact that Sam was unconscious didn't help at all. You dragged him to the edge where you managed to lift him. Daryl grabbed him and almost risked falling again. Then he wanted to pull you up. You took a little distance so that you could jump higher in the run-up. You then jumped, held out your hand and Daryl grabbed you in the air. You wanted to have time to calm down and recover from the shock you suffered, but this wasn't possible. Daryl took Sam on his shoulders and you ran. You ran as fast as you could and repeated that he could do it.

"We have to be faster.", you mumbled.

"Y/N, I don't think we've to..."

You shook your head and didn't even turn around. "Shut up!", you answered and didn't want to see anyone die again.

You could feel your heart beat wildly, your lungs contracted quickly, but you couldn't stop yourself. You just had to go on as usual.

"Listen to me.", Daryl said: "We can't waste medicines, we'll need 'em for those who really need 'em."

Your feet snapped between the dead leaves, reminding you every step of how far away you were.

"He needs them!", you burst out.

You knew what he wanted to tell you because he was already dead to him. But you didn't want to believe it and flee into that bitter and unlikely hope. It couldn't always end like this, giving up people and seeing them die. You felt like a liar, one who could never save a life... You were tired, tired of seeing people die.

"Y/N, damn!", he started again: "He's bitten several times 'nd he loses too much blood!"

"No!", you said, suppressing your sobs.

Just when you wanted to give in from exhaustion, you saw lifeless walkers on the floor. You were close, you did it. You cheered, but Daryl didn't join you. As soon as you came out of the bush Rick opened his eyes wide. The others filled you with questions. You made room for each other, ignored the questions and let Daryl take care of them. As soon as you laid Sam on the asphalt, you sat down next to him. You quickly released his arm from this miserable bandage and observed the actual conditions of the wound in sunlight. Meanwhile, you heard Daryl explain the incident. Suddenly everyone was with you and surrounded you. You saw their shadows, but no one moved to help you and you couldn't believe it, they too thought about it like Daryl. Would they really let him die? Rick lowered himself so he could look into your eyes and put a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N...", he whispered.

"No, damn shit!", you shouted, chasing him away: "Where's that damn backpack?"

You got up, ran to reach the backpacks and hurriedly emptied them, feeling the various objects with trembling hands. Then you took a bottle of alcohol and a bandage, but as soon as you were on your way to Sam, Daryl grabbed the things out of your hands.

"Why?", you asked, feeling tears streaming down your face, then looked up and noticed a series of empty expressions.

"He's dead.", Rick replied: "Y/N, he's dead..."

This words echoed in your head and tormented you. You didn't want to believe it, it couldn't be true. He was just unconscious, he would do it. A promise is a promise.

"No...", you said: "He passed out and lost a lot of blood, he can still do it."

You saw Father Gabriel making the sign of the cross and Eugene hid his trembling chin. At that moment, you were really looking at Sam's face. He was pale, his lips were purple. It had happened, he was really dead. Once again you had smeared your hands with the blood of a human being who was a part of your group. You brought your legs to your chest so that your forehead rested on your knees. Your eyes burned, but no tears came out. Daryl took Rick aside and told him about the trap you three ran into. In retrospect, this showed that there were other dangerous people. Maggie sat by your side and gently stroked your back. Although you didn't know Sam for a long time, somehow you managed to get him to belong to your group. He was nice, someone who could make you laugh. He even took care of you, but above all Beth. You were a mixture of emotions, a volcano that wanted to break out, and besides, you felt weak.

"We have to bury him.", you said to interrupt Rick and Daryl. Glenn sighed: "We don't even have a shovel to dig a hole."

You pressed your eyes to your forearm, hoping to relieve the burning sensation. Then you got up, approached the street and moved the leaves with your feet. Sam deserves to be buried, you did it with everyone. You would never have left him there on this street. So you sunk your nails into this hard ground like stone. With anger, despair and defeat you started to dig. You felt that you had reached the limit. Your emotions had literally tortured you and it was a burden on your back. You always pretended to be positive in every terrible situation you're in. You had desperately tried to follow any well-intentioned advice, but now it was too hard, almost impossible. There are moments in life when it is necessary to be sincere with oneself, and that moment was repeatedly presented in your presence, but you could dispel it with a few words of chance. On the contrary, there were no words that could justify the hell you all went through. Life had always been cruel, but the Apocalypse had crossed the line. Then you suddenly felt that all their eyes were on you, as if to emphasize how crazy you was.

"Y/N, you can't be serious...", Michonne said, thinking of getting you to change your mind.

And you knew that Rick would not allow you to stay here and waste time, he would insist on continuing the journey. The digging would have been an unnecessary waste of energy, in his view.

"I'm not asking you to help me.", you said: "Don't worry, I'll have no trouble reaching you all later."

Nobody answered you and let you understand that they exchanged opinions with their eyes. You weren't afraid or interested in their judgment and understood their intentions. You didn't blame them, but you would never let Sam's body be on the edge of the street, like a forgotten object. Suddenly you saw some hands added to yours on the ground. You were surprised to see Eugene at your side. You didn't say anything and limited yourselves to digging. But you appreciated it very much. Then you saw everyone kneeling one after the other and getting dirty without saying a word or showing fatigue. You knew very well how hard it was for them to fight this way and sacrifice their last energies. You weren't sure if they did it for you or for Sam, but you liked to think it was for him. You didn't lift your head off the sketched hole and kept working. That gesture meant a lot. These were really the people for whom you would sacrifice yourself with your eyes closed, you had no doubt about that. Rick reached out his hand and clutched yours for a few seconds, as if to remind you that you weren't alone, that you had a real family at your side. And when you thought back to how it all started, you felt really happy...

~

You dipped your hands in the warm water. The sun was really overheating that part of the world... You washed the mud and the blood that was gathering on your skin and watched the wandering living dead on the other side of what was supposed to be some kind of pond. Unfortunately the water was dirty, so you couldn't do anything but use it for such things as washing and taking care not to have open wounds. Rick and the others checked the fencing and added a kind of trap that would warn you of the arrival of some walkers after he'd decided to take a break for the time being. Daryl, on the other hand, was beside you, more silent than usual, busy washing the rest of the arrows. You appreciated the fact that he had decided to keep you company because you knew how difficult it was for him to be like that. While the blood was scattered in this murky water, your mind did nothing but project that pit of walkers. You thought about how Daryl had rushed in without any problems, as if it were a normal and spontaneous action. But the reality was very different. Not everyone would have so unconsciously decided to be a hero, on the contrary, many would have resigned. But you all would have done everything to help each other. If you hadn't stumbled under the weight of these walkers and their guts hadn't covered you, you would have died in that pit.

"Ya' did everythin' possible.", Daryl suddenly said, realizing that you were going to torture yourself about Sam's death.

"All I did was giving more pain to him...", you said, regarding the amputation. He shook his arrows and then dried them off.

"Ya' 've done the right thin'.", he reassures you: "The likelihood that he could be saved was minimal, but it was worth a try 'nd ya' wasted no time."

You dried your hands on your pants: "The last time I talked to him... I treated him badly and hurt him, and I can not undo it."

"So?", he said and shrugged: "Ya' hurt everyone."

You looked at him grimly: "Actually, I'm only like that to you."

He put a hand on his chest. "I'm flattered."

You knew he was so as not to let you think too much to avoid blaming, but that couldn't have been avoided. Then he coughed and hid his voice as if he had something on his conscience.

"So...", he began and took his time: "Anyway, I wanted to apologize for what I said in the church..."

You looked at him happily, happy that he sometimes recognized the malice he caused others.

"Yeah, lately you often ask me for an apology.", you said.

"I would not let it show you.", Maggie joked and appeared behind you two.

Daryl pouted and you kept staring at him. It was as if he had never given up his youthful, cheeky and grim side. Without another word he left and showed that he had to talk to Rick. Maggie then sat by your side.

"Surely that's a stupid question... But how are you?", she asked with a smile. You really appreciated that she wanted to be close to you.

"I'd be lying if I told you that I feel so much better.", you admitted: "I'm just thinking about what happened."

"We'll survive for a long time, right?", she asked, referring to herself and you thought of your little sister.

"At best, yeah."

You watched Glenn looking at you both from time to time. He seemed happy that you were talking together. You turned around and saw that Maggie did the same.

"He sent me to you.", she explained: "But I'm glad he did it... In short, we know each other from the prison, but we've never really spoken except for organizational reasons."

"I'm not really good at making new friends.", you laughed, blushing slightly and she smiled at you.

"What do you think about those walkers, those with that letter on their forehead? I think there's going to be trouble..."

You had no idea what she was talking about: "What letter?"

She suddenly turned around in disbelief: "Those in the pit. Daryl said they had a 'W' engraved on their forehead."

"I didn't really notice.", you said confused: "This huge pit reminded me of the Governor... Although, he used it for some other reasons, his weren't hidden and they were no traps for humans."

"And what was the pit of the Governor for?"

"The walkers were partly for his entertainment shows."

Maggie pulled her legs up to her. "Do you think he's still alive? Maybe the letter 'W' is for Woodbury, maybe he wants revenge?", she revealed her doubts.

You sighed and thought hard. Were you afraid he might still be alive? Yes... You hated that you had never discussed this topic with Sam. You wanted to know more about this Brian Heriot.

"I don't know, it's almost impossible for him to be saved, and the 'W'? I don't think he would be so melodramatic."

You both giggled and relaxed the tension. The sky darkened and brought the first gusts of wind that were as cold as the icy death. You noticed that Rick and Abraham were trying to light a fire in the meantime. Then you got up and decided to go to the rest of the group. You had already isolated enough... You looked at Michonne, who seemed happy to have a fire that could warm you all up in the night.

"We have placed some sound traps with the different glasses. At least we can safely light the fire and know if anyone is approaching while we sleep."

You crouched down by the fire and lost yourself in those crackling flames. This heat somehow made you feel alive. You watched the campfire and could do nothing but think about the nights you spent with your family, the roasted marshmallows, the horror stories that were actually just stupid jokes compared to today's reality. You were all in a circle, only lit by the fire. And it was nice to be able to look at them all and think, this is your family. Maggie rested her head on Glenn's shoulder. Rosita stroked Abraham's arm and almost pressed him like a stuffed animal. Michonne cleaned her Katana, content to find it again. One of Gareth's henchmen had practically delivered it. Little Judith seemed to have fallen asleep in Carl's arms. Rick was really lucky to have her back with him. In the meantime, Daryl has turned away for several minutes to look for something to hunt.

"I know it ain't much.", he said angrily as he reappeared: "But that's all I've foun'."

As soon as he showed what he had, you all looked disgusted. Worms wobbled energetically and huddled together.

"Do you really think we'll eat those?", Sasha contradicted, distorting her mouth.

"Well, maybe it's not the best.", Rick said: "But they're rich in protein and will be useful to us."

Then he took two and thanked the archer. Carl didn't seem happy, in fact he didn't seem ready to eat them.

"Don't think 'bout the apparition.", Daryl explained.

And then he began to distribute them as if he were the host. As soon as he looked at you, you took courage and grabbed a worm. It already made you sick to look at this creature, but you didn't want to be the only one who retreated. You swallowed, threw it in your mouth and chewed quickly. The taste was passable, but the consistency was the real problem. Eugene stared at you as if he wanted to get an opinion on the taste of the worm. You then gave him a thumbs up and pretended to like them. Surely it hadn't soothed our hunger, but at least it allowed you to absorb a tiny percentage of nutrients. Meanwhile, Father Gabriel looked at you all disgusted, but no different than usual. And slowly your eyelids became heavier, until everything was dark.

~

You woke up later and broke the nightmare in which you lived. You rubbed your eyes and stretched your back. Everyone slept peacefully and provided a sense of peace and security. Everything, except for a more distant figure. As you looked around, you noticed that only Rick was missing. You added a few twigs to the fire you had collected and joined the sheriff, who seemed very annoyed.

"Can't you sleep?", you yawned and he ran a hand behind his neck as if to massage his aching muscles. "It is not easy."

"Too many thoughts in your head?", you asked, sitting next to him.

"I think you know it well enough.", he replied, meaning that you were awake too.

You snorted. In fact, you would have liked to sleep to give peace to this body that supports you. Unfortunately, your subconscious didn't agree, because as soon as you closed your eyes, it projected all the cruelest memories and let you relive every moment. Instead, you knew that Rick had something else on his mind. You were tired of seeing how he created feelings of guilt for the tasks he himself set for the mental punishment he brought with him.

"You can not continue like this."

He looked at you questioningly, though you knew he was imagining what you were referring to.

"I understand that you have been appointed leader of these people, that you feel responsible for every single step, but you can not keep all that burden on your shoulders. You will end up breaking down or going crazy."

"Where's the difference?", he sighed: "I'm crazy already."

"Maybe you are a bit shaky sometimes...", you said: "But you're still a great person, Rick, you do your best and have the full trust of us all, isn't that enough?"

"I want you to be safe.", he said, rubbing his wrist: "I want to know Carl, my daughter, Daryl and all of our group in safety and I will not rest until I succeed."

You put your hand on his shoulder and stroked it a bit. He really would have done everything for you all.

"Okay sheriff!", you smiled, tapping his shoulder with your fist and trying to cheer him up a bit: "I bet that day will come soon, trust me."

But he didn't seem so convinced. He became a pessimist, just like Daryl. Not that you really believed in what you had just said. After all that had happened, you wouldn't be fooled anymore. There are no good days, there is no luck. It's all a sadistic game of a capricious deity or a bored destiny. Then you noticed your heavy eyes again. You were tired, but you didn't want to leave Rick alone in the company of his own fears, nor did you really want to fall asleep. You preferred to stay away from these nightmares.

"Anyway.", he exclaimed, interrupting your thought: "It's the second time you hit me, by the way."

"What?"

"In the church.", he explains: "Stop it, understand?"

You were surprised by his sudden change of mood, but you did not blame him. You tried to think back to the times when you hit him. You started from the very beginning, from the first day you saw him through the sniper rifle's scope, on the hill in front of the prison, and lived through it every day until your thoughts stopped at this memory. Joe. You had beaten the sheriff to stop him from killing a man, even though he had raped you and taking away the only piece of honor you had left.

"Roger that."

He stretched his back and showed his intention to lie down. You followed him, lying beside him, staring into the sky, which was as black as ink. Your bodies were subtly lit by the faint light of the flickering fire that crunched between pieces of dried wood that had almost become embers. Soon it would be completely extinguished. You could see the clear iris of the sheriff staring out of space, as if he wanted to dip.

"There are no stars in the sky.", he whispered.

"Then there are many clouds, and if we are lucky, it could rain tomorrow."

He mumbled something to himself, as if he didn't want to share his negative thoughts with you. In any case, you knew what was going on in his head, you knew very well that you weren't lucky. Slowly you heard his breathing get heavier and were glad that he finally fell asleep. You got up, looked at the group and saw Carl shudder. The fire was almost out... You took the machete out of your backpack, then approached some distant trees and buried the blade in some branches and tried to dispel the image of Sam's amputation. With every hit you made, it felt like you were cutting Sam's arm off again. Suddenly there were clinking glasses. A walker stumbled and landed on the ground. You slammed the blade into that disfigured skull with disdain, went back to the campfire, and let the fire rise again. Satisfied, you sat down and stretched your hands close to the flames. It was freezing cold. And as close as you were to the heat, you still felt cold. And then you wondered who the real walking dead were among you and them, with no doubt about the answer. What were you all but snowflakes in a not too hard winter? You all were just like fragile crystals on asphalt where you would melt once and for all...


	31. Chapter 31

Your predictions seemed to be fulfilled. The sky when you woke was in anthracite gray, overflowing with rainwater. The clouds seemed to want to overflow at any moment, but still no drop on the ground collapsed. As you walked, you looked up every now and then, hoping the situation would finally change. You wanted a storm, a shower with ice water, thirst quenching. Daryl was next to you, as if he wanted to help you in some way. You didn't know what he was thinking, but he was ready to assist you when you needed it. Once you were almost annoyed that he spontaneously understood you as if you were an open book, but now he reassured you. But you didn't want to talk and you didn't look at each other. Suddenly, people stopped in front, as if there was something in front of them that blocked the passage. You made room for yourself to see bottles of water on the asphalt. There was also a note that said: From a friend.

You all raised your weapons and looked around. Someone followed you and kept an eye on you. Abraham and Daryl quickly searched the area but found no trace.

"What should we do?", Glenn asked, pointing to the water. You were all thirsty and the temptation was very big. Although it was suspicious. Why should you ever trust a stranger?

"I don't trust this situation at all.", said the sheriff.

"It could be poisoned.", Carol added.

"It doesn't make any sense to leave the bottles here.", Tara pointed out: "If it were a person who really wanted to help us, he would show up."

"I'll drink it.", said the archer, gesturing with his crossbow and Rick put his arms in his side and frowned. Then Eugene moved and reached for a bottle. As soon as he pressed his lips to this plasticized surface, Abraham met the object and threw the bottle to the ground.

"Don't be such an idiot, dammit.", he warned.

Eugene looked down. He just wanted to be useful.

"We do not know if it's poisoned, it might even be good."

"Maybe, but we can't risk it.", Rick replied, referring to the false scientist's act.

You shrugged your shoulders. You didn't want to risk it, so you would just leave it there. Suddenly a thunder rumbled in the air and you saw a flash. The rain fell down as a shower and soaked us. Almost like a signal. Did the world give you water to survive or was it just another false joke? You packed all your water bottles and tried to catch those big drops. In a few seconds you were all completely wet. The clothes stuck to your skin and refreshed you. You had always loved the rain and now more than ever. This atmospheric event brought joy, smile and hope. You laughed with relief and opened your mouths to the sky. You have washed yourselves from the dust, the general exhaustion and above all the negativity. Carl came closer and stretched out his little sister. He too wanted to enjoy the moment. Sometimes you almost forgot he was just a kid. Even the little girl giggled. Despite all the horror she was thrown into, her skin was pure and white.

"You were right.", Rick admitted and suddenly appeared in your field of vision. His wavy hair fell gently over his forehead and let those icy eyes stand out. The beard held back every drop as if it were morning frost. The tight shirt emphasized his statuesque body and accentuated the muscles.

"And if I didn't?", you smiled at him.

He looked at you with sweet and melancholy eyes at the same time. You hugged Judith gently and remembered the first time you had your little sister in your arms. But Rick has sent you strange feelings. You understood the mood of the sheriff. Whenever a woman held Judith in her arms, the ghost conveyed to him all memories of Lori. It had to be tough.

"You would be a good mother."

"Who knows, maybe in another life.", you joked.

You didn't intend to start a family in such a world. Not even if you had found the perfect man in the future. But you admired the sheriff's courage, he hadn't retired. You wasn't the type, your mission was very different. Life certainly had other things in store for you. Rick put his hand on you shoulder and smiled. The rain literally flooded you, but you stood and stared at each other as if nothing had happened in the midst of the laughter and the happy cries of the others. Suddenly you felt that you had to turn around, as if you knew someone was watching you both. At that moment, you met Daryl's gaze. Rick noticed it too, broke off contact immediately, dropping his hand to his side. The archer turned around as if pretending that he wasn't looking at you or that he hadn't been bothered at all. But you felt that something was wrong. The situation became ambiguous. You tried, hoping to understand your feelings. It was as if you had become apathetic. But seeing Daryl annoyed and sad, hurt you. You now forgot the rain, thought only of him. Rick noticed that, took Judith and left you alone. As soon as your empty bottles were full, you continued your journey ignoring the other bottles in the middle of the street. By the way, instinct told you to trust. You slowed down, stayed behind and stuffed your backpack with a few bottles and Eugene saw you. You made a gesture not to mention it and he came to you and talked to you so that the others didn't notice.

"What are your intentions?"

"I agree with you.", you told him: "It should be tested, and if it were good, it would be a terrible waste."

The rain continued to fall down on you, leaving no trace at the end.

"But what if it is poisoned or contains a strange drug, a kind of sleeping pill?", he hissed.

"I'll take a sip.", he added. "Already by the taste you should understand if it contains something. Besides, the effect would be minimal."

After a reflection with the eyes lost in the void, he answered you. "Normal water, whoever followed us knew we were very thirsty. I can only recommend this water.", he added, showing you his thumb and that made you smile.

"Thank you Eugene.", you said.

You parted without losing sight of each other. The thunder and lightning became stronger and louder, more violent. Suddenly the air was clearly frozen and made you all tremble with every step. From bad to worse, you thought. The water from the bottles you had in your stomach hadn't caused any problems yet and you were sure it was good. You watched as Daryl ignored you and continued with the crossbow on his shoulders.

"The situation is getting worse.", Michonne said.

Rick ran his hands over his face and tried to get rid of the excess water.

"We have to find accommodation."

As soon as the sheriff had finished the sentence, you instinctively leaned towards the clearing and wanted to go on.

"Stay close.", Rick ordered abruptly, but you didn't answer him and went into the woods. You could barely walk in the high mud, but kept moving, clinging to a branch to hunt. Fortunately, the rain under these tall trees couldn't reach you directly and dampen the beam on the leaves. Then you heard a few steps behind you, stopped and waited for someone to reach you. To your astonishment it was the archer.

"Why are you following me? I can take care of myself."

"After what happened to us, I don't think 's a good idea to walk 'round 'ere alone, 'nd let's face it, ya' 're always 'n trouble."

You snorted: "That's not true."

"Ya' should understan'.", he answered grimly and was almost discouraged.

"Are you here to argue or help?"

He didn't answer immediately and took care of a walker stuck in the mud. This has allowed you a great advantage over the walkers, but also slowed you down.

"Rick works hard?", he said, brushing the knife and making gestures that represented a sexual relationship. You were struck by how childish he was every time he talked about it.

"Are you fucking serious?", you laughed, getting nervous and slowing down your pace.

You soon saw a shed, a wooden structure resembling a barn. It could have been safe. You came closer and wanted to know if it was empty. So you positioned yourself on the right side of the door and he did the same with the left, so you opened it at the same time. As soon as it was open, no one appeared before you. You only heard a few noises. Inside you found indeed some walkers in bad shape. They gave the impression that they hadn't eaten for a long time due to their lack of responsiveness. But it was easy to get rid of them. The barn wasn't very well furnished, but not in bad shape. The storm was gaining strength, the rising wind seemed to be aiming for a hurricane. Daryl and you quickly tried to reach the group, but you were suddenly blocked by a dozen aggressive walkers. So you took the machete and started to eliminate them. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Daryl in trouble, he was attacked from two sides. He tried to keep one of these creatures away from him, pushed him away and kicked the second walker, hoping to make him fall. The knife slipped out of his hand and fell into the mud. You hurried to his aid and threw them both down. As you took care of the rest, Daryl buried his hands in the mud, searching for the knife.

"Fuck!", he shouted before he found it and plunged the blade into the last walker. He waved his right hand and stared at his palm. You saw blood flow down his arm and stopped motionless, staring at him, thinking of the worst.

"Don't look at me like that.", he grumbled: "I'm not bitten."

"Let me take a look."

"'S just a scratch.", he said, pulling away. But judging by the amount of blood, the wound had to be deep. You approached and he left again.

"I just want to cleanse your wound, your hands are full of mud."

He then leaned against a tree and looked away, as if to implicitly agree with you. You pulled the backpack off your shoulders and grabbed a water bottle to clean the palm of his hand. Then took a piece of bandage and bandaged his palm with the attempt not to press too hard on the wound. A cut in the palm takes twice as long to heal, given the mobility of the hand. There is a risk of reopening very often. When you started to take a bottle of those standing on the street, he grabbed your wrist and pulled the backpack out of your hands.

"The fuckin' hell 're they doin' 'n yer backpack?", he shouted word for word.

Amazed, you didn't know what to say: "Eugene and I thought that-..."

"Ya' 'nd Eugene?", he repeated, marking the last name. You tried to free yourself from the grip, but he tightened his grip even more and injured your wrist and arm.

"Look, I know, it sounds like a stupid idea."

"I don't give a fuck!", he growled and interrupted you. He started to throw away the water but was blocked by your words.

"I drank it, it's good. It's good, Daryl!", you confessed, clenching his chest with your left hand, clenched into a fist.

"Ya' did WHAT?", he asked, looking grim.

He then dropped the backpack, which sank partly in the mud. The rain continued to fall on you, but in the face of tension, you felt every drop on your skin like little, damn needles. He seized you angrily by the shoulders and pushed you wildly against the tree beside him. He pressed you with all his strength against the wrinkled surface and leaned his body against you and your bodies were in close contact so you could feel him trembling with nervousness. This sudden violence, these fingers pressed like blades made you feel the same awful feelings that Joe had given you that day. You had the strength not to close your eyes to keep contact with this glassy iris, sharper than raw diamond. You didn't understand his intentions, all that closeness. Being in touch made you feel uncomfortable. Your heart throbbed like crazy and then he grabbed your jaw with nothing but tenderness and forced you to open your mouth. As soon as you understood his intentions, you instinctively blocked his other hand approaching your face.

"Don't you dare stick your fucking fingers in my throat!", you threatened and felt his breath on you.

"Ya' 've to vomit before yer body takes that shit.", he said without letting go.

"Take your hands off me!", you said again: "If it was poisoned at that time-..."

He pushed you back against the tree and that harder and harder. You could feel the bark scraping off the wet skin through the top.

"At that time, what?", he yelled: "Would ya' be fuckin' dead?"

You didn't answer and just stared at him. He was afraid. This scene, the anger, the violence. All aspects dictated by the feeling that bound him to you. He was afraid for your life.

"Do ya' want that, Y/N?", he shouted: "Tell me, do ya' want to die, do ya' want to fuckin' leave? Me 'nd those who tried to keep ya' alive? If shit's like that, let me tell ya' somethin'... Ya' 're a coward, a selfish whore!"

He let go, as if suddenly he was disgusted. You were speechless and had a terrible sense of emptiness that made room in you and provoked a series of contradictory emotions. You weren't looking for death and it weren't your intention to sacrifice yourself for stupid bottles of water on the street. Why did you do it? Maybe because you're just a stupid, useless girl with the unhealthy idea of always being right and blind trusting by instinct, you thought. You didn't have the strength and courage to cry at that moment, but the sky did it for you.

"Maybe I look like an idiot joking with life, doing rash things for no reason, overpowering any advice. I'm that, but neither am I. I act instinctively, but I reflect quickly, I do not do anything if I have not thought of what could happen. I do not try to kill myself, I fight, just like you and them. And do not dare call me a coward, because you do not have that right. You... You're someone who runs away from people, from conflict... I did what I did because I seriously believe that the world is in times when there are no good people left, but at the same time I wanted to risk tasting this water to show that I was wrong and that someone really wanted to help and maybe you're right, I'm crazy, but that's me and I can not change, and wouldn't do it."

You spoke quickly, gasped and threw these words like stones at him. His muscles relaxed, but his face softened and yet remained serious and distant. He seemed to say something, to confess, but Glenn panicked and trudged through the mud.

"I've finally found you!", he said in a voice that was broken by exhaustion: "You were the only ones who didn't come back."

He clearly saw that something was wrong, the tension was high, but he pretended not to notice and tried to relax everything.

"Please tell me that you were lucky and that you found something."

"You can bet on that.", you replied, showing him a smile that you could barely produce. He breathed in relief. The storm got worse, it announced a terrible storm between cyclones and thunder. You took one last look at Daryl, picked up the package and shook it so that it partially broke loose from the brown mud.

"We'll bring the good news to the rest of the group.", you told Glenn, pulling his arm and leaving Daryl alone in the rain.

~

The wind shook the shed and the wood seemed to break at any moment. The sound of the rain became louder and louder, echoing in your ears like torture, but otherwise you were at least dry. Rick tried several times to light a fire, as it was difficult to burn this damp wood. After a good half hour, a tiny flame finally appeared. You all huddled close to it and occasionally blew to give the fire strength. Daryl was the only one who didn't sit with the group, stood by the door, guarded and looked through the crack of the beams. Rick looked at you both and tried to understand what had happened, but he did not dare to ask.

"Have you filled all your bottles?", Abraham asked: "After such a rainfall, a dry season awaits us."

You nodded. He was right, but it wouldn't have been enough. Who knows how long your journey would have taken? Everyone started to think that you wouldn't find a safe place. That you would die at the end of trouble. You wanted to calm them down to make a strange, encouraging speech, but you weren't in the right mood. You then looked at Eugene intensely and he nodded his head, trying not to be noticed.

"Such a damn shit...", you whispered reluctantly: "The water was good..."

Then everyone turned in your direction and looked at you as they had heard you. You then silently put the various bottles down in front of yourself.

"What do you want to say?", Carol asked nervously and Maggie shook her head.

"It means that I drank it, that it is good and that somebody really helps us."

"And you're just gonna tell us now?", Rick grumbled: "As if nothing had happened?"

"Well, the decision wasn't good, I know!", you blurted out. He glared at you. In contrast, Glenn looked at you with sad eyes.

"You almost seem to be disappointed!", laughed Abraham.

"What do you want to accuse me?", you said and looked at him annoyed. He shrugged and answered: "You gave up, too."

"Abraham...", Rick interrupted him, hoping to reassure him. But he continued: "I think you gave up since your buddy died."

Rosita hit him on the stomach and warned him not to add anything. But it was too late, your blood was already boiling and you got up.

"You say that I drank this damn water in the hope that it was fucking poisoned?", you yelled at him.

"Isn't it like that?", he growled, getting up too. You put your index finger on his chest and didn't care if he was taller than you, you weren't afraid of this man.

"Of course not, asshole!"

"Stop!", the sheriff ordered in a clear voice and Eugene closed his eyes.

"Slut.", he whispered in your face and put his forehead against yours to look you in the eyes. He instigated a fight. He wanted you to punch him.

"What the hell did you call me, sergeant?", you said ironically to the last word. "I'm not the cowardly person in this group who poured gallons of whiskey to get attention, just like a depressed teenager would have!"

You saw a grimace forming on his face and he quickly broke away from you and wanted to beat you.

"Stop!", Rick shouted and you would have gotten this hit if he hadn't gotten up to hold Abraham back. But Abraham's fist changed the trajectory, hit you in the face and with full force.

"Are you crazy?", the sheriff shouted.

"Abraham, you really are just an asshole!", Rosita grumbled and ran in your direction.

You rubbed the back of your hand against your lips. Then you saw a streak of blood and spit a red lump on the floor. He had torn your lip open. Rosita took your arm and put it around her neck. The punch had been strong and you were feeling slightly dizzy.

"She's the bitch!", Abraham continued, ignoring Rick's threats. You looked at him with hatred.

"Are you still not satisfied?", he said in my direction. You spit in his face and spattered him with your own blood and felt the anger in his veins tremble.

"Stop!", Glenn said. Meanwhile, Rick tried to bring Abraham to reason when he stood in front of him. He wanted him to look him in the eye, but he did nothing but stare at you with murderous rage. Although the sheriff was angry and threatened him, Abraham was twice as strong. He could just push him away with his arm and was back in front of you. He suddenly grabbed you by the neck and thought about beating you again, but Rosita tried to get him off of you.

"Abraham!", Rick yelled again: "Let her go now! I will not repeat it a second time!"

Judith was crying hysterically and forced Carl to leave. Carol and Michonne were ready to fire when the sergeant made a second sign of violence. They all hoped that it would end peacefully. Abraham literally beat you with his iris and you could easily sense his hatred. You smiled at him and challenged him and then suddenly another fist slammed into his face.

"Dare it again 'nd yer dead!", Daryl growled, then aimed his crossbow, and Abraham's hand was only an inch away, practically in the middle of your eyes, his fist hanging in the air as if someone had interrupted the scene.

"Fuck off 'nd bring yer damn, freckled ass to the fuckin' ground or I swear to ya', I'll fuckin' kill ya'!", the archer exclaimed.

You were annoyed by his intervention, because he was the last person to take over your defense, after what he had done in the forest.

"The situation degenerates.", Maggie exclaimed: "We should all calm down."

Rick reached out and showed Daryl his palm as if to calm him down.

"Daryl, take the weapon down."

"Not until that son of a bitch has taken his damn hands off her!", he shouted.

Abraham relaxed his grip and slowly backed away without taking his eyes off you. He glanced at Daryl and sat down in a corner of the barn, followed immediately by his girlfriend, who thanked the archer with a nod. Rick lowered his hand and Daryl then put back the crossbow.

"It's all my fault!", Eugene yelled: "I knew Y/N had been drinking the water, but I kept an eye on her, so we took a small sip to see if it was really good! I'm sorry!"

"What are you talking about? No one's to blame for that.", Tara explained.

You squeezed your wrist against your lip, hoping the pressure would stop the blood from coming out.

"You risked your life for nothing.", Rick whispered angrily: "Again."

"There is really someone who wants to help us.", you said annoyed.

"So where is this magical person?", Carol said angrily.

Surely someone has been watching you for a while. Maybe it was one, two or at most three people who first wanted to know you were good people. In short, you would have studied a group from the outside before you left them alone, as if nothing had happened. Everything had its own logic. Rick cocked his head, tired of all these discussions.

"Leave it...", he said dejectedly: "Or do you want to argue with Carol now?"

"I'm just saying what I think.", you admitted, watching your bloody hand.

"Really?", Carol asked ironically: "Now I'll tell you what I think. If you hadn't been in this building in Terminus, you would have died because of your instincts, and if you really want to know, your great instinct is the same one who brought you to the Governor."

"Do ya' want it too?", Daryl grumbled, glaring at her. You licked your wound and enjoyed that irony, that pungent taste. You were shaking with disgust, but not so much as the anger in your body.

"Thanks to Carol's accurate revelation, I do not believe we reached the point where we accused others of salvaging a life.", you said calmly: "My great instinct is the same one that made me defend you and fighting the Governor, leaving Woodbury, which was once my home, and I'm here, for one reason or another, I'm still here like you all."

She wanted to answer, but Rick silenced her with a simple gesture. You didn't care what she thought, you knew in your heart how things really were, what you had to endure and swallow. You then went and walked away from everyone. Daryl tried to get closer, but you avoided him. Your shoulders collided, but you still ignored him. You then clung to a gabled staircase and reached the second floor, a loft of dry hay. You looked at the ceiling, at the wooden beams, which took every drop of water. Did you exaggerate? Could be... But you didn't regret it. You weren't the kind of person who is silent under unfair accusation. You turned to the side and assumed the typical position of a fetus, stared at your bloodstained hand and spent more than an hour in that condition, not even losing your position, lost in your thoughts. It was late at night, but you couldn't sleep. You could hear someone speak in a low voice but couldn't figure out who it was. Anyway, you didn't seem to be the only one who suffered from insomnia. Fortunately, Judith was blissfully sleepy. Suddenly, you felt the wood creak under someone's step. The stairs moved. You snorted and pretended to sleep. You didn't want anyone around. Whoever it was, the person lay next to you and crossed his arms under his head.

"It's useless, I know ya' 're awake.", Daryl whispered.

"Fuck off Dixon.", you said: "I didn't need your damn help...", you sighed.

"The secon' punch would've broken ya' down."

You talked without looking at each other or better trying to pretend there was no tension between you. He stared at the beams and studied them behind his now longer hair, and you watched his profile in the faint light. To be honest, it was practically pitch dark, but the fire came from below and lit up enough.

"I would have caught him unprepared, a spontaneous counterattack.", you said in a low voice: "Sometimes everyone forgets that I was in the special forces."

He smiled: "I just can't imagine it.", he chuckled a laugh.

It was good to see him cheerful from time to time, even though you knew he was fighting. Then you stopped and paused to listen to the tune of the water falling from the sky, those drops falling on the ground on every possible surface. You were fine, although you often had no happy moments. But he was one of the few people with whom you could be yourself. You hated what he had said to you in the woods, just as you hated Abraham's words, but you knew that Daryl's were different. You knew that if you wanted the archer to be by your side, you would have needed every nuance, including the dramas, the tragedies and the quarrels, meaningful, for they were the nuances that were all part of his character. Then distant thunder sounded and you saw a violet flash. Suddenly, the shed was flooded with a dazzling light, and in the next moment everything fell into oblivion. You don't know why, but you decided to approach the man next to you. You put your cheek on his shoulder and your hand on his chest. You didn't really like and didn't even tolerate others seeing you in a state of weakness, you didn't want to be considered a girl who was incapable and needed comfort, but at that moment you didn't care. You just wanted to be aware of not being alone, because even though you were with these people, it was often what you felt: A strong sense of loneliness. Daryl didn't back off, nor did he make a bitter joke, he just lowered his arm and grabbed your waist.

"Why do we always do that?", you asked, listening to the beating of his heart, meaning the fights between him and you: "Why do we do nothing but hurt each other when we talk back to normal?"

He put his chin on your hair: "I dont know."

You wanted to fall asleep in that position, in his arms, like a kid who wanted to feel safe. But suddenly you heard strange noises, as if someone from outside pressed against the door. Immediately you got up. Slowly, you heard rain and concentrated only on the entrance to the barn. Walkers... You saw Rick pushing himself against the door with full force.

"Help!", he shouted.

You all realized it and forgot the grudge, the words, the violence. You pushed against this door and tried to keep your feet on the ground. You wouldn't have allowed any of them to break that wooden barrier. You all supported each other, urged you not to give up. The door swayed from time to time, terrifying the worst. This situation lasted almost the whole night. But there was a small and faded positive detail: You were all there, side by side, ready to fight to survive as a family.


	32. Chapter 32

The first morning light fell through the bare areas of the forest and confirmed that you had been awake all night. Your bodies felt painful and you were tired. It had been a few hours since you hadn't heard a noise from outside, but you still hadn't decided to open the doors, nor did you walk away from them. Some of you lay on the floor, others were standing and others, like you, were sitting with their backs against the door. Although you had worked together during the night, Carol and Abraham weren't happy. You pretended not to notice. You saw Daryl looking out and leaning his face against a hole on one of the beams. As soon as he noticed your attention, he waved to you and you should also look through it. As a result, you saw the clearing, as well as the group of walkers who had tried to attack you, were literally swept away with some of the fallen trees and many of them were trapped under other tree trunks.

"I would say Mother Nature was busy.", you said.

Daryl reported that everything around you all was okay, there was nothing to fear. So you decided to open the doors and the light hit you, which made you raise a hand in front of your eyes. Although the picture that met your eyes didn't look very good and optimistic, it made you breathe a sigh of relief. Rick, after a quick look, said to Maggie and Sasha that they should look around. They controlled the area and maybe, if they were lucky, they would find something to eat. With all the excitement, some animals may have been injured. The evening was a disaster, a nightmare, but now you felt a strange mood, unlike everyone else. And Rick was visibly nervous and irritable.

"I was wrong...", Eugene said brokenly and frowned: "And Abraham got angry."

"Abraham gets mad at every shit.", you snorted. "That's nothing new."

"He hit me, too, when I said I'm not a scientist."

"I honestly can understand that...", you answered but put a hand on Eugene's shoulder and still tried to smile. He looked at you as if he didn't understand what he had said or done. Meanwhile, the sheriff looked at you one by one and realized that you were all really exhausted. It didn't make much sense to resume the journey immediately. You deserved a rest, especially now that the situation was finally calm again.

"We will stay for a while, we need energy again."

Everyone seemed to agree. So you went back to the barn and closed the doors for safety. Maggie and Sasha still enjoyed the sunrise. You sat on the floor, leaning your back against a support beam and staring down. Daryl surprisingly sat down with you and then cleaned his crossbow.

"Ya' still 've a swollen lip.", he said, looking at you with calm eyes. You touched your lower lip gently and it still hurt extremely.

"I have to look like a walker, right?", you said, laughing slightly.

"Ya' a disaster."

You shrugged, there was nothing to add. Then you noticed a kind of curiosity in his eyes.

"What?", you asked.

"Nothin', ya' just 've a strange look."

You showed all your teeth with a forced smile and underlined the fact that you were thinking about something. He squinted as if he wanted to understand you better. You forced another nervous smile, looked away, and noticed Rick at the other side of the barn. His eyes were empty, staring into the void. Little Judith sat beside his legs, concentrating on following her brother's movements, which rummaged through the backpack. You noticed a strange nervousness in the air... Suddenly the door moved and behind it appeared Maggie and Sasha, followed by a stranger. You all got up, ready to defend yourselves, but the man's eyes were peaceful. Was that the same person who put the water on the street? Due to his physique and the awkward gait he had to belong to a group. The clothes were clean, they looked new. He certainly came from a safe place.

"We met him out here.", Maggie announced: "He was alone. We took his weapons and all his things."

Rick positioned himself in the middle of the barn with Judith in his arms. His eyes were fixed on the stranger. He didn't seem to care at all for the information Maggie revealed. He didn't trust him. Daryl moved away from you and examined the man, who also glanced outward as if accepting that what was said was true. The man raised his hands to his chest, indicating that he was harmless.

"Hi...", he said in a shaky voice and Judith burst into tears and forced her father to hand her over to Carl's arms.

"It's nice to meet you.", the stranger continued, taking a step forward as if to shake hands with the sheriff. But Rick remained motionless, explaining that he had no intention of talking to this man. He ignored him.

"He had a gun, right?"

Maggie took the pistol she had grabbed, handed it to the sheriff and returned. Rick checked it and then spoke to the newcomer.

"What do you want?"

You stared at Rick. You understood that he was suspicious, but you could see how good-natured this stranger was. Sasha answered in his place.

"He has a camp near here, he wants us to accept membership."

The man gathered his courage and, looking at each of you as if to convince you all and said: "It would be nice if there was another word to define it, it is not a camp.", he said calmly: "It's a community. I think you're all good additions to our people, but that doesn't depend on me, my job is to convince you to come home with me."

The others didn't keep their eyes off him and analyzed him. But no one dared to say anything and waited for a move from your leader. Daryl looked at the stranger and Rick again and again and went from one to the other like a dog waiting for orders. The sheriff, however, still had a serious attitude.

"Sasha, can you give Rick my backpack?", the stranger asked kindly and you saw how desperately he tried to trust, to prove himself a friend. He wasn't a bad person, the more he talked, the more you're convinced. She moved and picked up a big rucksack, which she handed to Rick.

"There's an envelope in the front pocket.", he explained. Rick sank down, pulled out the object and opened it.

"I may not convince you that you come with me just by talking about our community-...", he admitted: "...-so I brought these pictures. I apologize in advance for the poor quality of the pictures.", he added: "I wanted to show you these pictures first because nothing I can say about the community is really important except that it is safe there."

You gathered around Rick so you could look at the pictures. The first showed a gate, a kind of seemingly resistant barricade. The members of your group started to look at each other. They almost seemed to believe his words, though you knew he was an unknown. It was hard to trust people again, and that was completely understandable. You carried terrible memories with you, hard to ignore.

Then the stranger started to speak again: "As I said earlier, safety is important, but something more important to the survival of the community is human beings.", he declared genuinely.

Rick got up and moved quickly in his direction. You blinked, you knew what would happen.

"Together we are strong... And you can make us stronger.", he said softly, not imagining what would happen. A fist was struck in his face and the man fell helplessly to the ground. You sighed, because he had fainted.

~

You dampened a cloth and pressed it lightly on the stranger's temple and cheekbones, hoping to relieve some of his probable pain. His plaid shirt, though blue, reminded you of your old red one from your dead and good friend. You weren't happy with how things went and you were ashamed of Rick's gesture. There was no reason to beat him. Meanwhile, Carl emptied the stranger's backpack.

"We need sentinels in all directions.", the sheriff ordered: "They come for us, we don't know how or when, but they will come."

Michonne reached Rick and tried to make him think. "Just to make it clear, there was really no need to beat him to knockout!"

"We can not trust him.", he said in a scratchy voice.

"He arrived on his own and was disarmed, he's practically harmless, why did you have to react that way?", you asked and Rick challenged you with his eyes. It bothered him, but you all couldn't always agree.

"I agree with Y/N.", Maggie said: "Me and Sasha hadn't seen him, he could easily have attacked us."

The leader clearly ignored your speeches and returned to his paranoia. He paced up and down the barn and glanced at the others, who were supposed to watch outside. Daryl hesitated. It was enough for someone or something to disturb his balance and he returned the usual sullen mistrust.

"Do you see anything?", Rick asked desperately.

"There are too many places to hide.", Glenn replied.

You then saw the stranger's eyelids move, he regained consciousness but you continued to press the wet cloth lightly on the area. Then he opened his eyes completely and assumed a pained expression.

"I'm so sorry.", you whispered: "Can you sit?"

"He's alright.", Rick grumbled and heard me: "Pull him up."

You helped him to sit down. Meanwhile, Daryl tied his wrists together. You tried to meet his gaze, hoping to change his mind, but he didn't even look sideways as if he knew.

"You want to be careful, I understand it.", said the stranger.

"How many of you are out there?", Rick asked determinedly: "You have a flare gun to send signals."

The stranger shook his head. "Is it important?"

"Yes."

It was a very delicate situation and none of you tried to keep it at bay.

"Of course, but any number I would tell you, you would never believe me.", the stranger snorted: "Ten, or maybe thirty-two, four hundred... Or even zero?"

Rick frowned, feeling teased: "It's hard to trust someone who smiles after getting a punch in his face."

"And why should I leave water bottles on the street to help you?"

Your instinct didn't fail and immediately looked at Carol and Abraham with a satisfied face.

"If he wanted to threaten or kill us, he certainly would not have waited until today. There would have been many other good opportunities.", you intervened as an objection. Rick stopped and stared at you and you were sure he cursed you at that moment.

"How long 've ya' been followin' us?", Daryl asked.

"I had enough time to observe that you ignored a group of walkers who followed you, that despite the lack of food and water, you weren't terrible with each other.", he said openly: "You are survivors... Humans."

The last word hit you. You wondered how many other people he had met before you. Not all of them had come out of this hell unscathed, on the contrary, many had become wild animals, more dangerous than the walkers itself. You had more than a taste of it. Although his speeches arrived, Rick didn't seem to feel the same.

"How many of you are out there?", he repeated, but the stranger didn't answer. The sheriff slowly shook his head and grimaced.

"Why the hell do you ask him questions again and again if you don't even believe his words?", you mumbled.

The stranger then sighed. "I have one person with me..."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me, how can I convince you?", he asked exhausted: "What if I brought you there? If we go now, we'll arrive at noon."

You all looked at Rick and hoped he would get to the heart of the matter. It was useless to think further. The stranger was visibly annoyed, but didn't want to give up. Did he really want to give you all peace?

"We came separately.", he declared softly: "If we found a group, we wanted to bring them to us, there is room for everyone."

Then Carol intervened in the conversation. You were amazed to see that she started to doubt. She believed him.

"And you didn't leave the car far from here?"

"Yes, one kilometer to the east. We wanted to get closer, but there was a storm and the road was blocked."

Michonne nodded. She would give the man a chance. After all, it was an opportunity you couldn't easily give up, as if nothing had happened. When could it ever happen again? It was a risk that needed to be overcome.

"You have prepared yourself well.", Rick chuckled hysterically.

"What proof do you fucking want?", you asked nervously: "Does it cost you so much shit?"

He came to you like a fury.

"It's my concern for us, it's about our lives, it could be an ambush, all bullshit!"

Michonne moved decisively and spoke without much words.

"I'll look for it.", she explained, referring to the cars.

"There is no car!", the sheriff has raised as objections. You took a step forward and looked Rick in the eye, as if you didn't feel threatened by his aggressive attitude at all.

"There's only one way to find that out.", you protested, smiling.

"We don't need to find out.", he replied and went on to look at you badly.

"We don't need to? Are you fucking serious?", you stuttered in disbelief: "Look at us, our wishes have been expressed and you want to throw away this damn unique opportunity?"

Michonne then supported you.

"Rick, you'll have your reasons, but I disagree. Do you really want to give up a place where we could live quietly, where Judith could grow up safely?"

The sheriff looked around and tried to figure out which side the majority of the group was on. He visibly disagreed with your decision, but you all felt the need to preserve this rare possibility. Then he decided to form groups: Michonne, Abraham, Rosita and Glenn were looking for the cars.  
You wanted to have certainties. You leaned forward to find out if you could go with them, but he forbade you as if to punish you.

"No, Y/N, you're not moving away from here!", he said without looking at you. Rick confided in his daughter as if she was in trouble. He raised the stranger and tied him to a support beam that immobilized him. You looked at him angrily, but didn't say anything, for fear Rick might get angry again.

"Why the hell didn't you let me go with them?", you asked.

"You don't seem to be able to take care of yourself right now."

You snorted and looked up. "What an fucking asshole.", you said to yourself and he wiped his hands on his pants, freeing himself from the dust of the dry floor. With Judith now in your arms, you didn't want to scream or get aggressive. It limited you and maybe it was a good thing.

"I have to think about this situation now.", he snapped back.

You finally gave up and focused on the baby. She seemed hungry. Meanwhile, Rick stared at the stranger again and again and checked the situation from time to time.

"It has happened to me several times to have a gun pointed at me, but you are a good person, you will not kill us because we will not kill you."

Without looking, he peered through the beams into the clearing and answered with disarming calm.

"The fact that we are good people does not mean we will not kill you. And if the rest of my people don't come back in an hour, I'll ram a knife in your head.", Rick replied.

The man lowered his head and grimaced. You couldn't look at him under these conditions. Tied and threatened with death... You understood the sheriff's actions, his distrust of what had happened to you in Terminus, but he couldn't treat anyone as a murderer. However, it wasn't necessary to overcome boundaries.

"What's your name?", you asked, smiling and he immediately looked up at you and smiled too: "Aaron. And thank you for your concern."

The baby suddenly started to cry and kicked like crazy. This tiny little body had enormous power. Rick scoured the supplies for something Judith could eat, but nothing was found.

"You saw the glass in my backpack, didn't you? That's apple puree."

Rick stopped and looked at the object in question on a small table.

"I don't want to deceive you.", Aaron reassured: "I'm not trying to please you, it's an instinct for conservation, because when the walkers hears her and comes here, I know I'm going to be the first who will die."

He was a good speaker, maybe too much. He always talked too much, although one could think about every single word so that he always centered himself. You kept the child hoping to calm her or at least reduce the volume of crying. Rick opened the glass and dipped a spoon into it, which he held to Aaron's lips.

"Do you really think he's trying to poison your daughter?"

Rick did not move, indicating that he wouldn't change his mind.

"I'm tied up and you've already expressed a willingness to put a knife in my head, how can you kill someone so brutally in the presence of your daughter?"

Rick got angry and you beat him. You wanted him to treat you like everyone else in your group.

"Maybe she will not die.", Rick explained: "Maybe she'll get sick and he's the only person who can help her."

"I'm the only one who can help her because I have something to eat for her!", Aaron said quickly. Rick persisted and approached him with rage.

"It's just plain apple puree.", Aaron said, his face still horrified. "I just brought it to show you we have some apple trees."

You pushed Rick without much strength, hoping to get him away from this poor guy.

"Now stop torturing him, I'll give it a try!", you suggested.

But the sheriff didn't move an inch and kept that spoon in the air. When you wanted to send him away again, Aaron ate the apple puree. Satisfied, Rick took Judith in his arms and prepared to feed her. He then sat in the corner of the barn, proud of how he handled the situation.

"There are still 45 minutes remaining.", he called.

You sighed. If the sheriff was stuck in these paranoid emotional states, it was really impossible to talk to each other and Aaron was terribly nervous. He was afraid that your group would be slow for some reason. After all, his life was also at stake... You folded your arms and sat next to Aaron, hoping he would talk to ease the tension.

"So... Are you still convinced you want us in your community?", you asked cautiously.

"Yes, no doubt, if you see it, you will understand, I can not leave you alone in this state, wandering through these places without food and water. You can not survive that way forever."

You hoped with all your heart that the place he had bragged so much was really special and hopefully safe.

"Together we are strong, you know?", you smiled: "Whatever... By the way, thanks for the water."

He laughed and looked at you with naive eyes. "Probably it was not a good idea to leave it that way, in the middle of the road with a note. If I think about it, I wouldn't have dared to, but you took it."

You shrugged and squeezed your chin in embarrassment. "It was a game of chance, as punishment I got this here.", you said, pointing to the wound and the conditions of the lip.

He widened his eyes and then looked at you for another injury.

"Don't worry.", you assured him: "They never raised their hands, it was just... A discussion that ended badly."

Meanwhile, Rick kept an eye on you.

"Was it Rick...?", he asked pointing to the sheriff.

"It was the Seargent. Abraham, to be exact."

Aaron took a deep breath and uncomfortably lowered his head: "I'm sorry, I did not want to create tensions between you."

You patted his shoulder. "Anyway... If we didn't argue, do you know how boring everything would be? It's just part of it.", you told him.

Then you saw his eyes fixed on a spot on your arm. You looked down and saw some big bruises that followed the curve of the forearm, almost like tattoos. The torn sleeves of the shirt were pulled up and showed the signs of the fight with Daryl that you had in the forest.

"And those extreme horrible bruises? Was that Abraham, too?", he asked, laughing slightly to ease the situation a bit.

You stared at him, hoping that Rick hadn't heard of it, but he immediately put the baby in what had been organized as her cradle and came up to you very quickly. You pulled down the remains of your sleeves and pretended not to do anything.

"It was just a quick walk... With a grip that's too strong... Well, if you have to run and when you're slower... You know...", you tried to talk out quickly and began to lie.

The sheriff was with you the next moment. He grabbed your arm and pulled you up, forcing you to get up. He picked up one of your sleeves and looked at the extreme bruises in the light. It was clear that they were imprints of a male hand capable of squeezing with such force. You tried to leave, but Rick's grip was too strong.

"Who did this to you?", he asked sourly and shocked at the same time.

"Rick please... It's nothing.", you replied.

"Who did this to you?", he repeated.

"It is none of your business.", you answered and put your feet up against the ground and hoped bitterly that you could get rid of him at that moment.

"Tell me, damn it!", he grunted. Then the door suddenly swung open and you recognized who entered. So you quickly looked away and stared at the opposite wall.

"Okay...", Rick said: "That was obvious."

Shortly thereafter, Daryl questioned the sheriff and tried to find out what was going on.

"You tell me!", Rick snapped, lifting your arm higher so he could see the heavy bruises and hematomas.

"Message arrived.", Daryl answered bitterly: "Now stop that fuckin' bullshit."

But Rick didn't relax his fingers and didn't let go: "Give me a reason."

"What?", you asked in confusion to intervene, but were ignored.

"Tell me why. Tell me you had a good reason and then, maybe... Maybe I can accept it!", he said openly to Daryl, the archer hanging his weapon over his shoulder and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Would it make a damn difference? Ya' already fuckin' sentencin' me, cowboy.", he said haughtily and came slowly to you: "Amon' other shit, ya' the last person who should talk so fucked up with me!"

He put his hand on your arm as well and challenged Rick. You didn't have the slightest idea what to say or do and just felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Come to the point, Daryl!", Rick laughed ironically.

"Do ya' really want me to believe that ya' the one who protects her 'nd keeps her safe while I'm that fuckin' violent bastard? Unfortunately ya' forgotten a few details, Rick... Whose fuckin' fault was it that Y/N got a damn slap from Michonne 'nd that Abraham fuckin' punched her? I'll make a lil' drawin' if ya' want!", Daryl shouted at him.

He tightened his grip and released you from Rick's. He stepped back and watched you with a very different expression than before. Did he feel guilty? Your arm was stretched to one side, but not quite free. Daryl held your wrist without tightening. He was still staring at Rick, smiling and challenging, hoping for a fight. You knew that quarreling could be almost a pleasant experience for him as it left him free from any thought or concern. But Rick was different than him, those words had scratched him. You then took a step forward to calm the sheriff. Daryl's words didn't bother you at the moment, because you hated that Rick was feeling tormented and you couldn't allow him to add another reason for this pointless, counterproductive action. But Daryl didn't allow you. In the meantime, Aaron looked at you sheepishly. You moved backwards, making the archer understand that you didn't want to be touched again.

"Why did you even come here?", you asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I wonder too...", he murmured and went out without closing the door. You sighed and closed your eyelids for a few seconds. All this tension within the group has started to get hard.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, Aaron.", you said ashamed. He didn't answer, but signaled you to talk to Rick. You crossed your arms and didn't know what to say, confused by the whole situation. So you took a few timid steps and spoke, though he turned his back to you.

"Rick, look... I'm sorry, okay?", you mumbled: "I know you're just worried about me and the rest of the group and I should have made it clear right away, so we could have avoided that stupid argument."

He rubbed his neck and then looked at you: "I'm trying to get everything under control, but I realize that many things are already out of control."

You remained silent and understood him. Then he turned around again and looked at Aaron as if nothing had happened.

"There are still 30 minutes left."


	33. Chapter 33

The night had fallen quickly and now you were sitting in Aaron's car, which the group had found. The man had told the truth, he and his friend had arrived separately, carrying a car and a huge camper full of food and other useful supplies. Nevertheless, Rick thought it right not to give them confidence immediately. He first wanted to see the acclaimed community with his own eyes. Although it was more logical to leave early in the morning, the sheriff had forced you not to wait for the sun. In this way you could observe the place unnoticed. If it hadn't convinced you, you could have escaped without attracting attention. It was a considerable advantage, after all. You sat in the back seat, on the right, next to Aaron and Michonne. Before that were Rick and Glenn. It was pitch dark, but you could still see the faint outlines of the trees and wouldn't have missed them at all. You were tired of this life on the street and you prayed that the place you were going to was really safe. Aaron had described the place in detail and told you about houses, lawns, solar panels, and more. Everything that was considered normal in the past. Although he spoke of it with a big smile on his face, you couldn't help but consider it an exaggeration, a possible lie. In short, it couldn't be true... Michonne went on to search the photos, to see every nuance, as if she wanted to find a mistake. And in between, you wondered what Daryl did, what he thought.

"Why aren't people in these photos?", Michonne asked confused and Glenn looked at you from the mirror.

"I screwed it up with the exposure, I had a group photo, but it was too bad.", he curtailed, but none of you seemed to be convinced.

"Did you ask the three questions?"

"No.", Rick replied.

While he was in charge of the interrogation, you leaned forward to see what the sheriff was doing. You put your hands on his seat, peered over his shoulder and noticed some plates. It looked like a collection. Then he sank his hands into the dashboard and pulled out a tape recorder equipped with the necessary equipment to pick up sounds from a distance.

"You heard us?"

"I told you... we kept an eye on you.", Aaron answered in a hurry. You snorted and dropped back into your seat.

"That amazes you, Rick?", you said ironically: "In this community they also have a coffee machine, toaster and video games..."

When Rick wanted to answer, the car jerked noisily. You saw a walker crack on the bonnet and flood the windshield with blood. After him came other bodies. You were traveling, one walker at a time, leaving a trail of granular, dense blood behind you. The car lurched over the bad grip of the tires and Glenn lost control. You turned one hundred and eighty degrees and found yourselves in a crowd of excited walkers. You tried to scan the lights of the camper, but there was no sign of them anymore.

"We lost them!", you shouted and the others immediately noticed. Glenn tried to restart the car, but the engine didn't want to. The sound of the lightning was just a constant repetition, echoing and obscuring the lamentations of the living dead. Rick was ready to fire, but in the sky appeared a signal rocket, which imploded in bright red.

"Shit!", Aaron yelled: "It's over!"

You asked him what he was talking about, but he had panicked. Although his hands were tied behind his back, he kicked the door and flung it open.

"We have to get out of here right now!", he exclaimed excitedly.

Without thinking, you jumped out and freed yourselves from the walkers. Aaron threw himself into the clearing and ran like crazy. Rick ordered the man to stop, but he did not obey.

"I think it's better to follow him!", Glenn advised: "Here we can not last long, there are too many!"

"We have to look for the others!", the sheriff replied.

"The only way to find them is to get where the signal went!", you shouted, killing a walker.

You saw Rick sit down and agree with the idea of following Aaron and seeking refuge in the forest. You ran even if you saw nothing. The more you went into nature, the more your vision became useless. It was a terrible darkness around you that restricted your every action. You barely saw the contours of Rick and Michonne and there was no sign of the other two.

"Glenn! Glenn!", Rick called. He did not care about the stranger, just wanted to make sure Glenn was fine. You paused for a moment just to catch your breath and eliminate a few walkers.

"He has to be around.", Michonne assured.

Then you heard something in the distance and moved in that direction and loaded the weapon.

"Don't you dare take another step!", the sheriff called and blocked you with outstretched arm.

"He might need help!", you protested.

"I do not want to let anyone wander around here alone!", he answered.

"You don't trust me, do you?", you whispered annoyed. He raised his eyebrows. Then the footsteps came closer and closer and gave you hope that it was Glenn. Exactly from the side where you had heard noises, Aaron and Glenn appeared and gasped. But you had no time to cheer, because other walkers wanted to reach you again. You accelerated the pace and ran as fast as you could. Whoever fired the rocket should be in danger, and you were convinced that it was Aaron's partner, given the emotional state in which he presented himself. After more trees, shrubs, walkers, bullets, sweat and various other problems you came back to a street. You noticed in the distance the camper, which was on a side street near a dilapidated farm. You prayed that everyone was fine. As soon as you saw Daryl coming off the road, you smiled. He lit a flashlight and made a sign that everything was alright. You reached him at a normal pace, tired from the physical effort.

"What happened?", he asked. Aaron didn't waste time running, eager for his friend to feel well.

"Walkers.", Glenn replied, glancing at his dirty clothes. Daryl looked at you one by one and watched the conditions of your clothes.

"I see.", he answered ironically.

"Who fired the rocket?", Rick asked.

Michonne and Glenn meanwhile entered the house, eager to sit down and meet the other newcomer.

"The friend of this talkative guy.", he said with a grimace and Rick wiped his forehead with one hand.

"He fell 'nd injured his ankle..."

The sheriff snorted: "We'll talk to each other.", he said reluctantly.

It was as clear as the sun that Rick didn't believe Aaron, he was sure that their community would offer no protection, but he still wanted to pretend it was the little flame of hope that was born in you. Then he left and left you alone. Although everyone pretended not to be stressed, there was a slight breeze of tension in the air.

"So...", you said, leaving the word on ice for a few seconds. You took a step forward, curious to befriend the new man, but Daryl stopped you.

"Stop that shit.", Daryl whispered suddenly.

"You and Rick have this terrible habit of always slowing me down.", you answered abruptly.

"Maybe 'cause ya' always harm yerself somehow."

You crossed your arms over your chest and he came to your face, as if he had done it to mock or annoy you: "Ya' stupid as fuck."

He was angry. He loved to laugh at you, but he hated being targeted. You took advantage of his nervous state to walk away, reached for the door handle, ready to enter the building, but he whispered something and turned away.

"Just wanted to know if ya' fine.", he said softly.

This prevented you from completing the action, opening the door wide. You stepped back and pushed your hand away from the door.

"Because of the Sam thing?"

He moved his shoulders slightly, as if to say that the question was general. You stared at his leather vest, his patched wings. Daryl was an angel dressed like a demon...

"I'm fine.", you answered.

He then turned his head slightly to look out of the corner of his eye and nod as if to give you permission to leave. On the contrary, you decided to keep the knowledge in suspense and approached the archer. It was easier to talk to him when his eyes weren't on you.

"What about you?", you asked, hoping he would answer.

"It's all right."

If you had sincerely answered his question, he would have done the same. It wouldn't hurt to get a little closer, together you had a lot of experiences and you always helped each other somehow. If he hadn't been, it would have ended badly with Joe as far as you're concerned. Still, he needed only two or three well-studied words and could instantly become a beast. You knew, however, that he had a tender heart, he had shown it several times, though he loved to hide that part of himself.

"I miss Sam.", you admitted: "Of course, we did not know him long, except Rick and Carol... But he was nice, at least his funny way."

Daryl grunted: "He just got on my nerves. Fucked up, weak, naive, unable to defen' himself 'nd too self-assured. People like him 're destined to die."

It wasn't exactly what you expected, but at least you talked.

"I realized it... Maybe I should stop finding friends, or it's a waste of time, after all, everybody's going to die."

He turned around and pointed the flashlight to the ground so as not to blind you but to see each other.

"Ya' 've to be able to tie yerself to no one.", he said: "If ya' do that, ya' just hurt yerself."

You put your hands in your pockets and protected them from the rising cold.

"I try to isolate the emotion, but I do nothing but fall back again and again."

He took on a serious expression, but remained tender.

"Y/N, nothin' lasts forever in this world.", he said, referring to the people you lost in your group. You took your hand off your pants and put them on the level of your heart. He stopped motionless and stared at you like a statue.

"But we do, Daryl, we're still here..."

You stood on your toes and he stroked your cheek, grabbed the back of your head and pulled you towards him. But your lips did not touch, leaving them a few millimeters apart, unfulfilled by the desire that burned them. His fingers slid down your hair and you returned to try to hide the embarrassment.

"'Cause we're fuckin' damned.", he said, walked up to the building and you smiled bitterly.

"What does that mean?", you asked angrily.

"What 're ya' talkin' 'bout?", he mumbled.

"Are you afraid to approach a person? Prevention is better than suffering, is that your stupid reasoning?"

He then came back to you like a wild animal, pointing his index finger at your collarbone.

"Ya' should keep yer damn big mouth shut unless ya' want more problems."

"Oh yes, I'm so scared...", you said ironically: "My legs are already shaking with this thought."

He came up to you again, as if he wanted to confront you with all his anger and frustration. He then dragged you into the yard and avoided so curious eyes.

"Ya' stupid if ya' think I can help ya'! I'm not one of those people who can be 'round ya', offerin' ya' a shoulder to cry 'nd all that shit! Look 'round, if that's what ya' want, I'm sorry, but I ain't that kind of person 'nd I'll never be!"  
"You don't know what I think, what I want or need! Stop acting like a fucking asshole!"

"I don't care what yer fuckin' fantasies 're, I'm not goin' to be the one who makes them come true! Understood?", he shouted at you: "Go back to yer sheriff! Or maybe he's the problem! Isn't he good enough for ya'?"

You pushed his hand away and grabbed the collar of his leather vest.

"It always amazes me how much effort you put into hiding the fact that you too have a heart, why are you scared, what really scares you?", you hissed, looking into his eyes: "I would be lying if I told you your words did not hurt, but maybe you're right, I'm just stupid, so go ahead, look me in the eye and tell me you don't care that I don't care about you. Say it!", you screamed and his glassy iris warmed your heart even though you were arguing.

"I can't make ya' happy...", he confessed suddenly, staring at you as if he felt guilty.

"I didn't ask you to do that!"

You then heard a voice and immediately put distance between you.

"There you are.", Rick said: "Next time I want to be informed where you are."

He put the gun back in the holster and asked you if everything was alright.

"You're right, I'm sorry.", you said, going in his direction: "It'll be better if we go into the house."

Daryl didn't move. "I'll keep watch.", he informed you.

"Fine.", Rick replied, laying a hand on your back as if to protect you. You walked silently around the building, accompanied only by the sound of your shoes touching the ground and the pebbles. You couldn't formulate any credible explanation, no motivation for your sudden 'loving' behavior. You knew you were an emotional wreck recently, but you couldn't understand what had just happened between you and the archer. It was as if you had explained yourself as if you understood that you needed him not only as a friend whom you could rely on, it was as if you were tired of your argument and decided to get a grip on it give. You wanted an answer... But it wasn't you, it happened and it made you fall back into this paranoid state. The archer hadn't denied your statements, he had simply moved away from the question. You wouldn't be able to see him in his face...

"Another discussion?", Rick asked, interrupting your stream of consciousness.

"Yeah, more or less."

You arrived at the door and couldn't wait to leave everything behind, go inside, meet Aaron's partner, talk about their community and pretend Daryl never said those words.

"Anyway, if you have to talk... Then I want you to know I'm here for you, okay?", Rick said affectionately, though the tension was palpable. You thanked him and finally you were in the house. The interior wasn't so bad, compared to external conditions these were luxuries. Although you weren't yet registered by the rest of the group, everyone looked happy. They really believed in this community, they didn't want to give up hope, on the contrary, they clung to the idea that fate had become their friend for once in their lives. You saw Aaron next to a man as he smiled at you in a friendly manner.

"And here's the only person who trusted us!", he shouted, leaning forward to shake your hand: "I'm Eric, nice to meet you."

You returned that smile with embarrassment and noticed the faces of Abraham and Carol. You also reached out to shake his.

"I gladly took the risk.", you joked: "Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N."

Meanwhile, Rick went past you and leaned against a door jamb.

"When I and Aaron saw that you didn't take the water, we were disappointed.", he said, looking at the sheriff: "We wanted to help you seriously, but fortunately, Y/N had self-confidence."

"Trust is not a positive trait these days.", Rick replied firmly. Eric fell silent and didn't add any words anymore.

"Never?", Aaron asked.

"It never leads to anything.", Carol answered dryly, supporting the sheriff. 

Aaron put a hand on his partner's back as if to force him to say something: "You're wrong, and we'll prove it to you."

The two had nothing negative about themselves and the more you watched the two, the stronger the idea that you did the right thing, established. It was worth following these two men and believing their words. Rick ignored Aaron's speech and ordered you to rest. The next day you would leave at dawn, so it was necessary to spend a night here. Judith had slept for a long time, evoking a feeling of jealousy in you. She could ignore what was around her. In any case, the various members of the group have settled within the structure and occupied the different corners of the house. You crouched under the window so you could watch the sky. You were sure that you had not slept much, because it would have been difficult to close your eyes with all the thoughts that were buzzing through your head. Daryl was still out there and you knew he had no desire to enter this house. He would have spent the whole night outdoors, and then would have been able to emphasize the fact in the case of discussion just to get away. You kept thinking about your conversation and wondered what it would do to your overall relationship. You feared that things would change and bring you back to this initial phase, that is, to the antipodes of the world. It took a long time to build what little you had and now it seemed like you destroyed it. Your relationships within the group have not really improved lately either. You wondered if you had changed so much and maybe you couldn't recognize it. By now you've heard a few breaths. You also wanted to sleep at last and were impatient with how you should come to the community, the time had passed so fast that you did not notice. Instead, you were lying there now, eyes open and feeling guilty. As soon as dawn appeared shy, you pretended to yawn and wake up from sleep, hoping nobody would notice your insomnia. Although you were physically rested, your mind wasn't at all. You clung to the window and slowly pulled back to avoid inappropriate noise that might wake the others. Fortunately for you, the people around you were still in the arms of Morpheus. Daryl was still out there, smoking a cigarette. He was sitting on a big rock, his eyes fixed on the horizon and the crossbow on his side. You moved stealthily between your companions just to avoid the annoying crunch that is typical of abandoned homes. As soon as you were outside, a light breeze hit you and made you tremble. If everything went as you had imagined, you would be able to take a shower in a few hours. And as soon as you turned to the corner, a voice reached you.

"Are you leaving?", Abraham asked, chuckling: "Without saying goodbye?"

"If so, then I would probably remember you.", you answered, pointing to your lip. He ran his hand over his beard and followed the line.

"I still have not apologized for that, right?", he said: "Whatever, even if it does not seem like it, I like you Y/N."

You raised your eyebrows and put your hands on your hips.

"I'm serious.", he said sincerely: "You're stubborn and you're not afraid to say your opinion, these are qualities that I appreciate."

You chuckled a dull laugh and he frowned at you.

"Abraham, you have no reason to kiss my ass.", you answered dryly: "What do you want?"

"Don't do shit.", he whispered sourly. He warned you. He believed that if things went bad you would try to avoid an armed confrontation, a useless death. He knew that you would somehow try to defend Aaron and his people, relying on some misunderstandings. The people around you did nothing but die, and you would have done everything you could to avoid it.

"Message arrived, sergeant.", you said, without submitting to him. He raised his eyes to the sky after stretching his back so that you could act freely as you wished. You snorted. This man has always managed to make you shiver and that unnerved you slightly. You had a strange feeling in your stomach at the thought of having to talk to Daryl again. As soon as he heard footsteps behind him, he sighed drearily. He knew immediately that it was you. When you reached him, you sat next to him.

"Did you sleep?", you asked.

He kept smoking and the tip of the poison turned bright orange. The paper was consumed and the smoke shook your bodies, resulting in various abstract shapes in the surrounding air.

"No.", he said and you put your chin on the back of your hand, your knees close to your chest.

"At least did you try?"

"I wasn't tired."

You nodded and stared at him. He looked at you for a fleeting moment, but unexpectedly he met your gaze. Embarrassed, he smiled a fake smile and turned back to his cigarette. The minutes passed and the cigarette was slowly consumed. The ashes fell at his feet and a sudden gust of wind visited you. Then you smiled at the pictures projected into your head.

"In the prison...", you said: "You offered me one and your lighter was empty."

"That's the day we argued.", he recalled and you blushed.

"The supermarket... Yeah, that's right."

You remembered him asking you if you could look for his brother. The prison seemed so far in the memories.

"It has been a while..."

He pushed the cigarette out on an anthracite-colored stone beside him.

"I bet this community will be a secon' prison."

"A dream that becomes a nightmare, a possibility to be considered in the light of our particular recent fortune...", you sighed: "Daryl, listen, if what I said yesterday disturbed you, I apologize, I don't even know why I said these things or why I got so mad..."

"We both know it."

He left you like an ornament, like a porcelain doll with empty, glassy eyes, and said goodbye with the excuse that it was time to wake up the group, leave, and embark on this new adventure. His last sentence had aggravated the situation and only confused you more. It was useless to return to the topic, Daryl and you would probably always pretend it had never happened. It wasn't the right choice, nor the wrong choice... You kicked a stone and it whirled a few feet around. You snorted nervously and waited outside the door, hoping the others wouldn't take too long. You were tired of being out in the street and constantly discussing with the members of the group, finally wanting the peace that Aaron so much praised. After a few minutes, you started to sit in the camper. No one spoke, so present was the fear. You sat down next to Michonne. The engine rattled a little before it fully engaged. Rick drove, focused more than ever on the road and feared that a scene would appear as the night before. Aaron and Eric talked softly and smiled. Eugene, on the other hand, looked nervously out of the window, as if he wanted to observe something you didn't understand. Glenn and Maggie chatted with Rosita and Tara and set up various, more or less plausible theories about the community. Carl sat next to his father, with the little girl in his lap. Father Gabriel also seemed very confident. He murmured something to Daryl, but he let out a grunt. Carol intervened in the speech and Abraham simply listened to them without saying a word. You moved your fingers on the wooden table and drummed on it obsessively.

"Excited?", Michonne asked.

A little, but not compared to her. She spread joy from all pores, although you still had no certainty.

"I don't know what to expect.", you replied.

"I think everything will be perfect, we'll be fine, I'm sure."

You smiled at her: "I just hope you're right, Michonne."

The caravan creaked on every hole on the tarmac and made you swing like Hawaiian statuettes. You've never had an accident, but all those repeated movements made you feel sick. It was like being in a boat, thrown around by the fierce salty waves. You tried to focus on one point by focusing on a random object in the car.

"It will not be easy for us to integrate ourselves.", Carol commented.

"If that damn tin can doesn't stop swingin', we won't even get there!", the archer growled. Rick turned around and flashed his eyes at him, pointing out that it wasn't his fault.

"I'm doing everything to avoid those damn potholes, but the road is a disaster.", he said.

You were glad to know that you were not the only one who was caught in a persistent feeling of nausea.

"It'll be like a dream for you, you'll understand it as soon as we get there.", Aaron commented.

Rick grabbed the steering wheel and pulled the muscles of his arms together: "We'll see...", he answered, frowning, already seeing the community from the distance.


	34. Chapter 34

The engine went off and your bodies moved to a row. You got out of the car one by one, slowly, as if you didn't want to believe it, as if you were afraid to see where you had arrived, where you might live. A gate rose in front of you, huge and solid, enriched with rust stains. Out of this deep and cold silence came distant sounds, voices. Laughter. That was laughing from children. Rick looked back and watched each of you. He now believed in this place. Aaron approached the gate and called someone named Nicholas. As soon as he appeared behind the metal bars, suddenly an opossum ran between your legs and Daryl immediately shot it with an arrow. The guard opened the gate and looked at you confused. It must be strange to see people like you... The archer grabbed the animal and swung it back and forth.

"We brought Dinner.", he said.

You smiled at Nicholas and tried to stay calm. You were afraid you wouldn't pass the test that would soon throw you back on the road. You sincerely hoped that the most unpredictable people behaved well, like Daryl and Abraham. Aaron motioned for you to follow him and entered the community. You looked around and were ready to capture every meticulous detail as if everything was useful to you. The gate closed behind you, and you were trapped in this new area.

"Before you go on, you have to give us the weapons, if you want to stay...", Nicholas informed, but Rick immediately contradicted.

This time, you wouldn't have learned about the sheriff's decisions unless they were completely wrong or premature. You didn't want to be more hostile to the group.

"We don't know yet if we want to stay."

Aaron understood the situation and calmed his friend. He did not seem very convinced, but didn't insist.

"Let's talk to Deanna first.", he told Aaron.

"Who is Deanna?", you asked curiously.

"She's the one who knows everything you want to know about this place.", Aaron replied: "Rick, do you want to go first?"

The sheriff turned around to understand your intentions, whether it was good or not. Then he focused on something far away, slightly behind Sasha. He suddenly whirled around and took his revolver. He aimed and killed a walker in the immediate vicinity.

"That we arrived.", Rick said, now moving forward.

As a first approximation, you weren't very friendly, but you hoped that the members of this community could understand and accept it. It would have been very difficult to settle down. Nicholas accompanied Rick to the woman and Aaron showed you two houses. The private driveway, the hardened grass, the perfect plaster. They appeared as if they had just come from a catalog. It was as if this piece of the world had never been contaminated by the destruction. Besides, they reminded you of those days...

"They belong to you, there's everything you need inside, organize yourself as you see fit.", he told you.

Nicholas would come back and get one of you. Deanna had expressed the will to get to know each other bit by bit. Michonne and Maggie looked at each other enthusiastically and crossed the threshold first. Everyone followed and separated randomly between the two structures. Only Daryl and you stood outside looking at the drywall.

"Can you belive that?"

"I don't know.", he snorted: "The whole shit stinks."

You took a quick look around the neighborhood. It was so bright, colorful, alive. The flowers adorned the paths, the trees were full of fruit. The windows had no dust layer. A lady even went for a walk with a dog.

"What stinks here is you, Dixon."

You entered the house on the left. It was a shock. The rooms were perfectly decorated, luxurious and clean. You haven't seen anything like that in years and couldn't understand it. The kitchen was immense, with a two-door refrigerator and an ice dispenser. From the tap dripping transparent, drinking water. On the walls there were squares, empty frames that you could fill with your memories and various paintings. In short, absolutely nothing was missing... Whatever you could have imagined, even the most trivial, there it was. You now climbed the stairs, curious to see the rest. The rooms were of indescribable comfort. Pillows, sheets and soft and fresh scented blankets. Then you went to the bathroom, eager to look at the shower. From that moment Michonne came out with a toothbrush in her hand. She vigorously brushed her teeth to account for the months of abstinence from this type of hygiene. With her mouth full she pointed to the sink. On it were various packs with a variety of toothbrushes. She smiled and spilled some toothpaste on the tank top but did not care, her eyes were so bright, she was happy. She was really happy... You accidentally opened a box and found yourself with a white and purple brush with blue and white bristles of various sizes. You smeared more toothpaste than necessary and started rubbing it on your teeth as you wanted to feel the freshness of fluoride and mint. You laughed and looked in the mirror, you looked like two little girls struggling at a pajama party. Then Carl shouted loudly Michonne's name and waved something in his hands. She spat in the sink and joined him in a chamber from the attic. It would probably be his room and you were sure that he had found some comic books. You rinsed your mouth, put the cap back on the toothbrush, opened the bathroom window, and looked out. The view was breathtaking. Many houses next to each other. Many families in safety. Green areas, a church, walls and watchtowers. There was really nothing missing. You then saw a woman approaching your house with a box full of weapons while Aaron walked up to her. It was probably time to hand over your gear. They hoped that you would have more confidence in them if you had looked at the place. You ran down the stairs and went out onto the street, back to the group. The woman pointed to the box and told you to put your weapons in it.

"Do not worry, it's still your weapons, you can take them when you want, but not right now, I'll just bring them to our storeroom."

You wanted to wait for someone to take the first step, but apparently nobody seemed to really believe it. So you were the first of you to get rid of the backpack and the equipment, including the weapon in your holster. You put everything in the box and then went back with a fake smile, as if it did not bother you at all. In fact, you hated to be so unarmed. You never realized how much security these weapons actually gave you. At the moment you felt deprived of your safety. After you Michonne also put the Katana on it. On the contrary, she seemed very satisfied. The last person to put down her weapons was Carol, who played the role of the weak and incompetent woman. She took the weapon from her shoulders and made the object look heavier than it was. The woman from the warehouse couldn't hold back a smile. She was sorry for her... Carol had already assumed the role of the perfect housewife, already thinking about what to say and do to win the residents' trust. Sneaky and smart. Aaron ran a hand through his hair. He was a bit embarrassed and didn't know how to identify with you given the delicacy of the situation.

"Inquire, look around, inspect. I'm sure it will all be to your liking."

Maggie and Glenn now walked down the main street to watch the various houses and structures. Michonne returned home. She would take a shower. Carol pretended to be arbitrary, but you knew she followed the same path as the woman who went the warehouse. Daryl sat down beside the fence, with the oppossum. Instead, Abraham's group returned to the house with the intention of waiting for Deanna until it was their turn. You looked around a bit, doubtful of what to do. Suddenly Aaron came to you. "Do you like the house?"

"Are you really asking me that?", you joked: "This place is really fantastic, Aaron!"

"From now on you will live here.", he commented.

"Well, I hope so, but you have to understand that you were far from everything, you did not have to be confronted with anything that happened to us, or just with what's out there...", you said looked at the gates: "I think you're still one of the happiest people on this earth left."

He laughed a little and looked at you seriously. He knew how much you were right, but it was hard to imagine how many atrocities they had avoided.

"Thanks anyway."

He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled at you: "You don't have to thank me."

"That's not true.", you replied: "Thank you for believing in us, for bringing us into your fellowship. We will not disappoint you."

Meanwhile, Daryl spat on the floor. Pointing out how much he hated this situation. You saw Aaron make a strange grimace and retreat with a fake smile. You turned to despair and saw Daryl skin the animal. He opened it in half and pulled out the intestines. Hands and mouth were full of blood.

"What?", he mumbled, feeling watched.

"Do you even ever think about what you're doing?", you asked perplexed: "We should make a good impression. Not all people here know how to survive out there, you can not eat like an animal in front of anyone."

He ignored your words and chewed on another bite.

"I don't give a fuck.", he murmured: "Ain't wanna waste it."

You snorted: "Then at least take a shower."

"Why the hell should I?", he asked, digging his fingers into the opossum's belly.

You lowered yourself and leaned forward to get eye contact with him: "They have soap, they have hot water, they have a damn toilet with toilet paper. Don't you realize that, or do I have to explain it to you?", you said.

"What for?", he grumbled: "To make a good impression?"

He violently tugged at other entrails and ate them eagerly. You didn't understand if he was just nervous or angry for a reason.

"If you don't want to do it for yourself, at least do it for us. For Judith, for Carl.", you said with discomfort: "For me."

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and added nothing, just licking his bloody fingers. You then went down the driveway and looked around. You didn't meet people, everyone was in their homes to peer out from behind the curtains. But you didn't regret it, you preferred to be undisturbed, exploring the place without being overwhelmed by people, questions and explanations. You now faced the metal wall that separated you from the outside and didn't hear any particular noise. Later, you saw an empty sentry post, so you climbed the stairs and watched the nature around the community. The sun illuminated the surroundings, nourished the plants and overheated the asphalt of the road, creating typical visual games. A walker stumbled over his own legs, staggering around with his open jaw. He seemed weak and hungry and you wondered if any of these creatures could ever really get in here. Was Alexandria really safe? You were hoping that the conversation between Deanna and Rick would be successful. The sheriff had to trust people again, it would be a long and exhausting journey, but you knew that sooner or later he would be victorious. You stood and stared aimlessly at this walker, watching him with an empty and indifferent look so that you jumped a little when you heard a voice behind you.

"Now don't tell me you're missing those things."

You turned around immediately, shocked that you hadn't heard anyone come. A tall man with a touch of sketchy beard. A sniper rifle in his hands and a sparkling smile. You walked away, as if to give him the place, but he reached out his hand.

"I'm Spencer. You have to be part of the new group Aaron told me about.", he said, while you squeezed his hand and forced a smile. It was still a strange effect to see clean and ordinary people without anger or fear in their eyes.

"I am Y/N..."

He walked to the wall and leaned over a little: "Those things...", he said, staring at the walker you had targeted yourself: "I only see them on expeditions around here. I just can't imagine what it's like living out there all the time."

He seemed to be calm and relaxed. In its place you would have had a watchful eye. Of course, you were unarmed and he had a gun. You were certainly harmless, but you would never have surrounded yourself with such spontaneous calm. He probably trusted Aaron's judgment, or you didn't look like a dangerous woman to be on guard about.

"It is anything but pleasant."

He sighed and continued to stare at the walker: "Well, we'll probably have a party tonight to greet you. Not big, just some music and beer. You know, to meet you, to get to know you."

You were stunned, surprised and he looked at you with a wrinkled forehead. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. Excuse me. That's all...", you said gesticulating: "It's all new to us. You're talking about a party, about music, about people who are willing to learn more about us and this life out there... As if it were normal, as if everything stayed as it once was. I'm just incredulous."

He scratched his neck and assumed an embarrassed expression. "Okay.", he exclaimed: "Maybe I was not careful enough and I'm sorry. I didn't think about it. You do not have to appear, in short, it's just an invitation, you can do what you whatever you want, but we will come over later, me or Aaron, to inform you."

"You don't have to apologize, I'm just confused by this new atmosphere. I don't know if any of them will come from my group, but I hope everybody wants to settle here."

You exchanged a smile and the silence fell between you. It had never bothered you not to talk to anyone, but at that moment you felt the embarrassment in your veins. It was probably the enormous difficulty of achieving what you were catapulted into.

"Anyway, I have to go now... I'd like to have a shower before I meet Deanna."

Obviously, he understood your need and dismissed you without too much useless chatter. You quickly went in the direction of what would have been your house from now on. You felt a strange sensation, a perverted sense of discomfort. You were glad to have met another member of the community, but everything seemed so strange and blurry in your eyes. There was too much kindness in the air, for example, Spencer had not shied away from seeing you in this pathetic state. Suddenly, you began to doubt this place without knowing the exact reason. You only hoped that the unhealthy doubt you had hinted might disappear when you arrived. At the door you saw Carol standing at the end of the street and she gave you an annoyed look. Nobody had come back yet, and Michonne had to be gone from the moment you heard no sound from the bathroom. You crossed the living room as if you were tired, defeated by these thorny situations, stopped in front of the window and looked at the garden. This vision just reminded you of your past... It would have been hard to live with the group. Not that you hadn't already done that, but now things had suddenly taken another turn. You had always known that some of them were still resentful of you, although you were always available and ready for anything, but since you tried the water, it was different. In your heart, you knew that you shouldn't have done it, nor would you try to get them to change their minds with falsehoods, because you would never have given up being yourself. Suddenly you heard the door squeal and turned in that direction, hoping it was not Carol. Luckily for you, you crossed those cold and profound eyes.

"Hey.", Rick greeted you and closed the door behind him: "The others are still with Deanna?"

You nodded and looked back at the perfectly maintained and immaculate garden.

"Haven't you been there yet?", he asked, coming up to you and looking out of the window as well.

"I just got home.", you smiled: "I exchanged a few words with a man. He looked like a good guy, but I wanted to take a shower before talking to Deanna."

His face wasn't yet completely relaxed or painless. He still had serious doubts about the community.

"After all, Deanna made a good impression...", he said seriously, staring at the grass.

"But?"

He frowned: "But everyone seems to me to be sure of the impenetrability of this place."

You did not answer.

"What do you think about that?", he finally asked after a few minutes of silence: "From this place and from these people."

You put your hands in your pockets. "Why are you asking me this?"

He looked at you with a question mark on his face. "Because I'm interested in your opinion.", he replied as if it were obvious.

"Not lately...", you said awkwardly and weren't sure what to say.

He crossed his arms over his chest and emphasized his muscles: "Just explain yourself..."

You wanted to go, you had regretted to say what you thought, but he grabbed your arm, if only gently.

"Let's talk. Tell me what's wrong.", he said, pulling you towards him.

"I think that a good part of our group, if not all, have reservations about me."

He shook his head and smiled at you. "That's not right, I know what you're talking about, but you do not have to listen to Abraham or Carol. You should know what kind of character you have."

You already knew that, but it wasn't that easy. 

"What about you?", you asked, turning back with your eyes to the garden to avoid his gaze. He was surprised by the question. He remained silent for a few seconds, lost in thought, as if he were tracing all your discussions. Then he slowly moved to your shoulders.

"I trust you blindly.", he said, hugging you from behind: "And if I get angry sometimes, it's because you're putting yourself in trouble and I do not want something to happen to you. You know... I think Daryl thinks that way too, he doesn't want to lose you and he would do anything for you..."

You were petrified by this innocent and yet very desirable contact. Your heart started to twitch and throbbed fearlessly in your chest. Were you really so desperate that you were so eager for a simple hug? This little union of you reassured you more than fond words, that you did not even realized what he had said about Daryl. You returned that gesture and gently stroked his arms, which wrapped around you like a blanket. You closed your eyes as if you didn't want to lose the feeling of peace on your skin. Nevertheless, you both knew something was wrong, and Rick knew it first. You melt fast like satin, but with a strange softness in the gesture.

"I'll need a shower with hot water too. I think I'll try it in the next house.", he said sheepishly, heading for the stairs, taking a few steps down, and you remembered Spencer's invitation.

"Rick?", you called and he stopped with the handle of the door in his hands: "I almost forgot about it, the man said that maybe tonight there will be a party, in short, a quiet evening to meet, maybe Deanna has already talked about it..."

He looked down, almost disappointed, and replied: "Just a hint, but they wanted to let us know.", he said softly: "But thanks for reminding me."

The door closed and you stood there like a statue, motionless to see him go, as you remembered what he had just said about the archer. You felt a contrasting feeling in yourself, it was as if you were doing something wrong, as if you lacked a fundamental factor.

"Fuck it...", you mumbled to yourself, because you didn't have time for this nonsense. You had to stop thinking about every tiny thing, because it ended up with just tormenting yourself. You slammed the bathroom door shut and let the shower water flow until it was almost too hot. You quickly undressed, eager to immerse yourself in this enveloping warmth. In front of you, a wall mirror reflected your picture in its entirety. Your body was emaciated and wounded, so you approached slowly and saw a scar or a fresh wound with each step. The ribs peeked out slightly... You ran your fingers carefully over each bone and took everything bitterly true. The wound in your leg was awful, half-scarred, leaving a ten-centimeter long scar on your thigh. The pain had never quite disappeared, but you had decided to hide it. You simulated a normal gait, hadn't said anything about it and everyone seemed to have eaten the bait. Of course you never had a great self-esteem of yourself as a person in general and of your whole body, but now you were ashamed of your appearance. You then threw a large towel on the glass surface so that it was completely covered, went into the shower and found yourself crying briefly under that hot stream of water...


	35. Chapter 35

You rummaged in the closet full of clothes that had been given to you, hoping to find something simple that you liked and that could cover the wounds and bruises. You put on black jeans, similar to your current pants, and a long-sleeved shirt. There were even new underpants and bras. The general pain had disappeared with the regenerating effect of the tempered shower and your hair was soft. They were defined, not frizzy and meanwhile they had become longer again. You went to the bathroom to get the towels you'd used to put them randomly in a room, the room that might have belonged to you. It sounded strange, you couldn't believe it... As soon as you took the big towel and cleared the mirror, you were confronted again with your picture, but this time the effect was different and rather pleasant. The long-sleeved shirt hid the bruises and wounds on your body, making you feel better. The wrist still hurt a little, but now the anger was barely noticeable. You felt free, easy, new, almost as if you had been born again. Shortly afterwards you went downstairs and went to the kitchen where Michonne was looking through the cupboard. She also wore new clothes and it was nice to see her happy. Although you arrived only a few hours ago, you already felt at home. It was quieter, less suspicious... You smiled as you realized she was humming and checking every kind of food you had. As soon as she noticed your presence, she greeted you with a beaming smile.

"Hey! Wow! You look so beautiful Y/N!"

You blushed and she wrinkled her nose, amused by your reaction, grabbed a fruit, and sat down on the kitchen counter of the island.

"What do you think about it?", she asked between her bites: "About this whole current situation?"

"It seems impossible to process...", you replied, spreading your arms to indicate the whole structure. She then waved to you to sit next to her and take a fruit: "I don't think you're not hungry.", she mumbled: "You have to eat something too."

And then you ate the juicy sweet flesh to intoxicate yourself with this taste. 

"Much better than the worms.", you chuckled, whereupon Michonne sighed and fell back into the memories from outside.

Her face darkened for a moment, but then her eyes returned brighter than before, though her iris was dark.

"That is the past and I will do anything to protect this community."

"That's our miracle.", you said after another bite and looked into her eyes: "And we'll all fight to keep it alive."

She nodded smiling and was glad to hear that. "You know...", she said: "You are a smart woman, Y/N, it was a good decision from Rick to welcome you to the prison that day."

You turned around in disbelief to hear such words.  
"Do you really think so?", you asked shyly: "Or are you just saying it to make me feel accepted?"

She looked at you in confusion: "Is this a joke?", she replied sincerely: "I think without a doubt that you are a qualified member of the group! I liked you from the beginning! Do you remember our first mission? To get supplies?"

You remembered... That, as you struggled with yourself as you tried not to give in to the desire to kill her. You were alone in the woods, then alone in the city again. It would have been the perfect moment...

"I wasn't very talkative, I admit.", she continued: "I was more busy surviving, but I had fun. When we met these two guys, I realized that we are a perfect team."

You pretended to smile, but in fact you had been struck in your heart by a sting. After all, one of these men was someone with whom you spent some time...

"That's true, it was a very quiet, but fun expedition.", you admitted: "But I have to confess something..."

She raised her eyebrows and understood that it was something serious.

"At the beginning, I could not be near you...", you confessed: "I hated you when I was on Philip's side... But when you talked, laughed, I always realized how strong you are, how incredibly amazing..."

She rolled her mouth into a condescending grimace. She understood your position very well.

"To be honest, I can imagine how hard it would be to be in our midst if we had been on the Governor's side."

That's when you realized that you were the only one who called him by name. For you, Philip was a big asshole, but you couldn't call him the Governor, as if it was just his negative sides and actions converging and skipping the gestures and attentions that would have shown and given many people, even though he tried to kill you.

"But I'm glad to have chosen your side.", you said, threw the core of the fruit into the bin and hugged Michonne, the woman who had always shown you cold, the same woman you were supposed to kill, the woman who was now your friend. She looked at you in surprise, she had not expected such a sudden self-confidence, but she still returned the gesture. You thanked her, went out to the street and sighed as if you had got rid of a big load. Then you looked around and saw a blonde woman running away from your driveway, shyly greeting someone at the next house. Then that person turned and closed the door. That's when you realized that it was no longer the Rick you met back then. He shrugged, as if silently saying that he could do nothing about it, as if it was too late. And he was right... Because if you remember he had already given you a clue about a person from your group... You reached him, curious to examine his face more closely. As soon as you were in front of him, he smiled almost embarrassed, but without looking away from your eyes. The beard was gone, giving way to a clean, gentle and relaxed face. He was like a new person and this unexpected transformation filled your heart with joy.

"Impressive!", you said, as a child in front of a cake shop which sees the big pies.

"Impressive?", he repeated with a smile. You immediately put your hands on your hips and he stroked his chin in disbelief.

"I don't know what to say, you are... You look so different."

At that moment you saw in his eyes only embarrassment, happiness and relief.

"I hope in a positive way!", he chuckled and you didn't understand why, but you both seemed more like best friends from a no more existing world than surviving adults who had a healthy dialogue.

"I've never seen you like this before, without a beard.", you gestured: "And yes, in a good way!"

He smiled at you: "Likewise."

"Y/N!", Aaron suddenly shouted, leaving your laughter on hold: "I've been looking for you."

"Why?"

He stopped at the end of the steps as if to emphasize his intention not to enter your personal space. Then his lips reached the maximum in an smile as he saw how Rick and you had already changed in that short time.

"Deanna is almost done, would you like to meet her today?"

"Of course, no problem.", you lied because of nervousness. When you came down the stairs and left the sheriff behind, Aaron said he wanted to talk to him, but as soon as you were on the street, you realized that you didn't know where to go.

"Aaron, I'm sorry, but I have no idea where Deanna is."

He laughed at his own forgetfulness, assuming that you knew where she was. He started to turn around and walked back to you, as if to accompany you to your destination instead of giving you a simple clue, but Rick stopped him. "I'll take you there.", he argued: "Aaron, give me a moment and then we'll talk, okay?"

Aaron nodded, looked at you both, dropped onto the bench on the terrace and waited. In fact, you didn't expect to be escorted by Rick to Deanna's house. Not that it was strange and unusual, but it had been embarrassing to leave Aaron alone on the porch. It had never bothered you to go next to Rick, but as you walked along the curated street you realized how much his presence made you feel uncomfortable. You wrapped yourself in the silence and tried to appreciate every inch of the world you had around you at that moment. Alexandria would become your new safe zone... In the distance, a figure appeared that became more and more apparent in the speed with which it moved. As soon as you saw Daryl's face, you smiled, but Rick passed you a grin and pulled you by the shoulder. He remained silent, as if the presence of the archer hadn't bothered him at all, as if he hadn't even existed. All this indifference surprised you, but you still said nothing. The sheriff stopped and pointed to the house next to you. From the door appeared a woman with an authoritative face and marked by age. You felt a strange energy in this woman who was so small and careful. Her eyes, as clear as the water, looked at you and dug into your brain. For a fraction of a second, you thought you were in the presence of a deviant, but by contrast, you were sure she was a benevolent creature. The two leaders exchanged glances and Deanna invited you to come in. The house was as you imagined it to be in this community. These walls spoke of her, of her family radiating warmth and serenity. You eagerly and fleetingly looked at every detail. Then you walked down a corridor to sit in a large, well-appointed living room.

"I hope it doesn't bother you.", she said and started a video camera. You nodded and sat down on the sofa in front of the chair that was meant for her.

"So, Y/N... Let's say I already know enough, or at least the most important things..."

You stared into her eyes, trying to find out the possible information.

"Well, considering that Rick is our leader, I would agree."

She smiled and confirmed your suspicions. "I was happily surprised when I heard from Aaron that you immediately trusted and drank the water."

You shrugged your shoulders. "My group reacted differently."

"Because?", she asked in a deep voice.

"Because it could have been a trap. Because-..."

"No.", she interrupted you: "Why did you drink it?"

"Because I was thirsty.", you answered dryly. Deanna remained silent and stared at you. That answer was not enough for her, she clearly knew it was a lie. You hated her relaxed attitude and already this damn video camera.

"What are you? A psychologist or is it just a hobby?"

She crossed her legs: "No."

You pouted your lips as if to explain to her that you did not agree. You tried to annoy her, you wanted to know more about her, her character, her position. You looked around and then waited for her to continue. The curtains that framed the big window behind you were not entirely immaculate.

"Now you're certainly going to make a series of considerations that any strong person could easily pick up, a bit like the media back then.", you interjected, reminding yourself of the psychologists in the special unit.

She gave a smile as if she wanted to take on the challenge. You knew it was different, but you wanted to see how far it would go.

"You're on the defensive, Y/N.", she said, gesturing with her hands: "I think you make little gestures that you do not even notice."

"For example?"

"You're constantly touching your wrist and forearm, and I think it's a movement that only gets activated if you feel uncomfortable or perhaps ready to attack."

You stopped immediately and stared at the wrist decorated with your little sister's necklace and felt the bruises Daryl gave you too. She was right, this woman was damn right. But when you wanted to answer, she returned to the attack.

"You have a problem with your leg, a badly healed wound. I suppose it hurts very much, but you hide it, you do not like being the center of attention. You do not want to look weak, you do not want someone to take care of you or your health."

You remained silent, almost as if you wanted to argue, but didn't have the strength.

"All the movements with your eyes were the ones that Daryl did a few minutes ago. You can observe everything and everyone, but you have trouble to identify yourself with some of your group. But why?"

"Because they don't trust me. Because I'm a damn cuckoo that can't do any good and as much as I try to be optimistic, I stay a piece of shit! Do you understand?", you spat out and remained breathless.

She relaxed her muscles, unlike you, happy to have reached your heart as if it were the nut of a fruit, the deep inside.

"Because you're trying to be what you are not. They'll accept you, but only when they finally get to know the real Y/N."

You inhaled again and tried to calm down. Deanna had practically gutted you.

"And as for your leg, we have a doctor."

It would be like admitting the problem, you thought, but the idea of avoiding other horrible, unnecessary pain tickled your conscience.

"You're damn tough, Deanna.", you said, although it irritated you and crossed your arms.

"We are all alike because we are survivors.", she said with a smile. She was absolutely right, though perhaps more mature in some aspects. You knew how to hunt, shoot, and, above all, survive.

"What worries you?", she said suddenly, pointing to your trembling hands and frowning. You leaned forward as if to get closer to her figure.

"If this place is what it is... Then I just wish that none of us will do anything wrong."

"It's very likely to happen, but I already expected it.", she replied, pretending to be quiet.

You sighed. Then you talked about your old family, how the events had ended up to this day and exchanged opinions. Then she got up at a certain point and went to the camera. The little red light disappeared. You had ended the session, wondering why she didn't want to ask anything about Woodbury, about the fact that you wanted to kill your group earlier... Was it possible that Rick had missed that detail?

"I don't even know if the rest of your group has already told you about the party?"

"I already know.", you interrupted, eager to get out of the house: "Spencer told me about it."

She smiled and you went to the door: "I'm glad that you already know each other. "

"He looks like a good guy."

"He is one of my two sons.", she continued: "I was planning to do the party. Not everyone seemed happy with the idea, but I would appreciate the presence of all of you."

"It's allright.", you replied dryly: "We have to make a good impression."

She looked at you without adding anything and opened the door with a serious expression: "Y/N?", she whispered, leaning against the door: "I don't know how your relationship is with Rick and Daryl, but I think you should know what he said."

You stopped motionless and at the same time stared at her distraught and desperate. A glance was enough for her, a quick glance at your arrival with Rick, at the exchanged glances, and she had already suspected something.

"I don't want to know!", you blurted out and entered the street.

The afternoon had passed quickly, among the changes in the community, speeches and various reflections on everything and everyone. Deanna's conversation had troubled you, enough to put you in a painful state of loneliness. You went back into the house and caught Carol, who put cookies on a plate and Maggie and Sasha with noodles. The smell was intoxicating. Everyone else was in the living room, sitting on sofas and chairs, waiting for dinner. You nodded to them and then went upstairs. Right now, you didn't feel in good company, though your stomach was rumbling. You threw yourself on the bed of the room where you had left your things and enjoyed this comfortable, soft and almost new mattress. You hugged the pillow and closed your eyes for a moment, happy to have your own room to retreat to or escape. Compulsive cohabitation began to be difficult, especially with some members of the group. The door, which you had just ajar, meanwhile opened gently, almost as if the person on the other side did not want to be disturbed. Although it was the other way around.

"May I?", you heard a soft voice.

The same voice revealed the person behind you. You nodded and saw Rick's shadow coming closer. He put his hands on his hips and looked around before he sat down on the bed and gave you a look back.

"Will this be your room?", he asked, as if to start a conversation.

"It's the first room I've seen and I've thrown in my things.", you replied: "You want to know how it went with Deanna, right?", you sighed and buried your face in the pillow.

"You have disappeared since you met Deanna."

"This woman is a bit disturbing.", you admitted and he smiled and gave you a reason to speak. You left the pillow and looked up to Rick so you could see his face.

"You didn't tell her everything, did you?"

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows: "No."

"Because?", you asked and had to know.

"Because it's not necessary to reveal everything about your past."

"Really? That's the reason?", you asked, insisting on a more detailed explanation.

"Y/N, I trust you and I do not regret the day I allowed you to cross that fence and enter the prison. And you should know that Daryl thinks the same way..."

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"For me and especially for Daryl, you've always been part of our group, even though we met you later, even if you were theoretically our enemy, I've just omitted some details of the story."

You embraced him instinctively after a few seconds had passed completely silent. And you didn't care what Daryl said in his interview, though you were confused again why Rick always said Daryl's name when you talked. You stayed in that position for a good minute, a minute that seemed endless. You then broke away from this affective contact, looked at each other without saying anything, but he was ready to talk.

"Want to eat with all of us, as a family?", he asked, tilting his head.

You immediately got up with a smile, Rick as well and joined the others, sitting in two opposite places in the living room. Daryl was sitting on the carpet on the floor, his back resting against the couch. Playing with a knife, he almost missed his own. Sasha set the steaming pot on the coffee table in the middle of the room and Maggie served the dishes. In a moment the verbal silence blew in these walls. The only audible sounds were the forks that touched the bottom of the plates. You ate a small portion at a time, trying to maintain that kindness longer. Then you looked around until your eyes finally stopped at Daryl and you knew that you were home.


	36. Chapter 36

Night. Moon. Stars. The sky was the only thing that never changed. Everything that surrounded you had changed with you, after a slow but precise metamorphosis. Mutation that not only led to perfect butterflies, but also to incidents of monsters and atrocities. But despite the day-to-day horror, that damn cobalt-blue spot had remained immune. You stared at the stars and wondered if there would ever be peace again... Now the walkers, plunderers, cannibals or whatever was your normality. But you also wondered if you could ever exterminate it if you had ever appropriated the earth again. You now stared at the cloth-covered bed and tried to figure out what was best for the party at Deanna's. Some of the group were already at the party, including Rick, Abraham and Co. Only Michonne was in crisis, just like you for wearing a matching outfit. You weren't very feminine, you didn't like dresses and high heels, but everyone was dressed elegant to look good. You stared at your body in the wall mirror and absolutely had to cover the bruises and wounds. But a noise distracted you and made you jump. Someone had knocked on the door.

"Y/N, it's me.", Michonne said: "May I?"

"Yes, come in."

She came in barefoot and smiled sheepishly: "What are you saying?", she asked, whirling around. She wore a dark dress, which was decorated with thin horizontal stripes. The fabric was so soft that it easily came to life, emphasizing every inch of her figure. She was beautiful.

"Michonne, you have a stunning body!", you answered spontaneously. She laughed and then shut her mouth as if she wanted to keep herself at bay. The woman looked at herself in the mirror, not used to seeing herself again in those clothes. Then she turned around, as if suddenly realizing that you weren't ready yet.

"And what about you?", she grumbled: "You still haven't found anything you like?"

You shrugged and twisted your lips sideways, while sge was putting her hands on her hips, looking around.

"More or less..."

She sat on the bed and checked what was left. "What's wrong with that?", she asked, blinking: "This dress is very sexy."

You shook your head disapprovingly: "No... That doesn't suit me."

She looked at you as if she were already exhausted and threw the dress behind her. You laughed and thought of your dead mother. She had to endure all your youth crises and this situation reminded you of the whole afternoon in front of the closet.

"This!", Michonne cheered and gave you another dress. The length was the right one, neither too short nor too long. It has also covered this terrible wounds. But you did not have a very confident expression.

"What's it now?"

"Well, it's just that-...", you stuttered, pointing to your legs: "...-They'll see the bruises."

She thought about it, stared at the bruises that adorned you, and rummaged through the rest of the clothes.

"You could put these on.", she said smiling: "The black stockings should be pretty opaque."

She threw you the chosen clothes and forced you to run across the room. All this ease was so strangely digestible. It still seemed impossible to you that you laughed and joked like little girls.

"Now that my job is done, I say goodbye for the time being!", Michonne announced in a girlish tone.

You nodded and she left. You meticulously checked your calves and knees and found that the bruises were barely visible when you changed. You were really relieved, but meanwhile walked into the corridor, even though your legs were shaking, looking for a pair of matching shoes. New couples were provided in a walk-in closet. You decided for a pair of low boots, but with a nice pronounced sole. They would have helped you to steal a few inches and look slimmer. As soon as you reached the lower floor, you noticed Daryl lying stretched out on the couch.

"Don't you come with us?", you asked, noticing that he was angry for some absurd reason.

"Don't know.", he grunted what mor said he wanted to be alone. He grimaced, you opened the door and as soon as you stepped outside, he called after you. "So dressed, ya' look disgustin'."

You sketched a smile. As long as he said bad things, it meant he was fine.

"I hope you still appear!", you called and turned away. You walked quickly, hoping not to be late, but now you could do little. The icy air hit you and made you tremble. As soon as you saw Deanna's house, you stopped to watch it. They heard music and from the windows you seemed to see someone dancing. Maybe it wouldn't have been such an unpleasant night... So you gathered your courage and knocked on the door.

"There you are! Finally!", said Deanna and appeared with a glass of champagne in her hand: "I began to believe that you wouldn't show up any more."

"And I started thinking about it to be honest...", you replied with a clumsy smile. Meanwhile, she put her arm around your shoulders and led you into the living room. With a quick movement, you greeted all present and noted with pleasure that the whole group had participated. Only one person was missing... Then you suddenly stopped in front of a man with gray hair and a square glasses frame.

"This is Reg, my husband.", Deanna said and you exchanged a handshake.

"Did she get something to drink?", he said, handing you a glass. Smiling, you reached for the object. It had a great smell and taste. Then Deanna pointed to a young man struggling with a conversation.

"This is my other son Aiden.", she informs you, while the man was already approaching you. You nodded and smiled, hoping to hide the enormous embarrassment you felt at that moment.

"Allow me to tell you that you look handsome and beautiful tonight.", he added, causing you to blush. Deanna and Reg laughed and said goodbye to leave you alone. You stayed silent to see them go away, praying that they would change their minds. Meanwhile, Spencer poured himself a whiskey. "Sorry, it was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

You tried to joke about it and he seemed to understand and laughed too.

"So, what do you think?", he asked, sipping his drink. The atmosphere was very nice. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. Even Rick talked and laughed with some locals. It seemed like a dream.

"It's all very nice.", you admitted, looking around.

Meanwhile, he poured himself another glass. "I did not mean the party.", he laughed: "I meant in general."

"Well, my first answer is still valid.", you joked: "The whiskey looks by the way very well."

He showed you his teeth with a happy smile. "Then you have a good taste."

He handed you a glass. The color of alcohol was very intense. Only the smell reminded of the exaggerated drink Rick and Daryl had drank just before Terminus. A feeling of nausea was then reflected in you. You didn't want to repeat this night but tasted the alcohol and found it strangely enjoyable.

"It is very good."

"This gem is twenty years old.", he explained, drinking the whiskey and watching Abraham swallow gallons of beer. He and Rosita seemed pretty tipsy to you, but at least they had fun. Michonne spoke with Glenn and Maggie, which was really beautiful. While Rick talked to the blond woman who had recently seen.

"I'll get something to eat.", Spencer informed you: "Do you want something too?"

"No thanks."

You stood staring at the liquor, hoping Spencer would return quickly. Although you felt a little uncomfortable, you preferred to talk to someone rather than stand around silently. But he was blocked by his brother, who then pulled him along. You snorted bored and looked for someone who might want to talk. But as soon as you took a step, a man blocked your passage. You looked up and saw a face you hadn't seen before.

"I'm Pete.", he said, holding out his hand.

"Y/N...", you answered, shaking his hand. He seemed worried. It was as if he wanted to start a speech to achieve something. Then you noticed that he only glanced at Rick and the woman in his company.

"Is that your husband?", he asked, taking it for granted.

"Who? Rick?", you asked doubtfully, hoping you'd guessed. He rubbed his neck.

"Definitely not! I think I like someone else.", you answered but he didn't seem convinced. Pete went on to suggest that there was something more.

"You're damn wrong.", you answered dryly, glancing at them. It didn't bother you though you thought of someone else already.

"So you are not jealous?"

"No. But let me the hell alone.", you answered. He held the glass tight and you were almost afraid that it would shatter between his fingers: "That is my wife."

Shit, you thought, Rick is in trouble...

"I was hoping he'd at least be engaged or married.", he added.

"He was. His wife did not make it, but his son and daughter stayed with him...", you informed him. He did not answer you. He finished a glass of beer and then walked quickly to them. You were sorry for Rick, but at least you could avoid Pete like that. You watched as the man stood between the two, mumbling something. The woman didn't seem happy, though you didn't think it was a happy marriage. When you wanted to pour another glass, Rosita and Abraham joined you.

"Why don't you come to us?", he asked.

Behind him, you saw Michonne and Tara signaling that you should join them. Glenn, Maggie and Eugene were also with them. The two accompanied you to their table and you spent so much of the evening in the company of the group, between laughter, pranks, jokes and drinking. From time to time, you often glanced at the door, hoping that Daryl would cross the threshold, but that did not happen, and you realized how disappointed and sad you actually were not to see this man... So you gave up and let you carry by laughing.


	37. Chapter 37

You could barely keep your eyes open. Abraham filled his glasses as if it were water, but no one dared stop him. An annoying feeling in your heads signaled that you should stop, but a small part of you wanted to continue having fun. For a long time you had fun with everyone without bickering, but after a while you felt cramps in your stomach. You had drunk too much, that was obvious... You held yourself heavy and rested your hands on the table as if to find the right balance, but Michonne begged you not to leave. As another glass was poured into you, you realized that you had really reached the limit, because you couldn't even bring the glass to your mouth, so it fell down. You all laughed until you cried and held yourselves in pain the stomach. Rick turned in your direction, busy as he spoke to Deanna, and shook his head with a smile. He was happy to see his friends drunk but happy. But given the alcohol, you decided to say goodbye to them for as long as you could remember. Glenn pouted while Tara was already laying with her head on the table.

"I'm sorry, but if I don't stop, I'll end up in a coma.", you mumbled.

Abraham looked at you and narrowed his eyes as if to concentrate: "But we're just at the beginning.", he raised an objection and had to burst open loudly. By the burp, you almost started screaming with laughter. You were ridiculous, but it was too funny. But now you had made your decision not to overturn. You put your hand against the wall, hoping not to fall, and walked slowly toward the door. And when you were almost at the door, someone seized you by the waist and turned you around. Whereupon your head vibrated as if you had been thrown into a centrifuge.

"Are you sure you can do it?", Spencer asked, supporting you. You nodded with a smile and moved your hand as if chasing a slow-moving fly.

"I take that as no.", he laughed and then accompanied you. The outside cold hit you in the face, but this was almost useful to recover a little. Spencer looked at you shuddering, ran into the house and left you there for a short time.

"Here.", he said, putting a jacket on your shoulders. You were amazed at this gesture.

"Thank you.", you stammered. He smiled at you and stayed close to you when needed.

"Better?"

"A lot.", you admitted: "If I had been less conscientious, I would have drunk on with my people."

"I would have liked to be there, but I was afraid to disturb you... You were a very nice sight.", he said and suddenly approached you. For the rest of the journey, however, you remained silent and when you arrived in front of the house, you felt guilty about having left the party.

"From now on, I can do it alone.", you said gesticulating. He tore his hair back and tried to believe you. You were thankful that he had not insisted. You sighed, trying to regain control of your body, but the road seemed to sway under your feet. In one way or another, you managed to get to the door. Much of the route had been done, and you were safe. This time you wouldn't vomit, this time you would have made it. After these fleeting thoughts, you turned the doorknob, closed the door behind you and sadly noticed that the interior was completely dark. You put your hand on the wall to your right and tried to find the light switch, but all your efforts were in vain. Then you staggered into the kitchen, hoping at least to find the light above the stove. You stuck to the furniture, looking for the hob and the more you walked, the more you felt weak. Bingo... You switched on the light and were blinded by the intense neon-white glow, so you closed your eyes with a scream. Your eyes burned hellishly.

"Damn bitch!", a scream made your jump: "Turn off the fuckin' light!", Daryl shouted.

You turned around and tried to find out where he was even though your pupils were blurry at the moment. But you recognized Daryl's figure peeking out the sofa. He had something in his hand, a bottle. It looked like wine. He covered his eyes with the other hand.

"Fuck you Daryl!", you grumbled: "You scared the shit out of me!"

"I jus' fell asleep! Sorry if I didn't greet ya', princess!", he murmured angrily, clinging to the bottle.

You threw the jacket on the lights to keep the light from spreading in the living room. Yet it lit the bare necessities in the kitchen.

"Are you happy now, asshole?"

"Ya' can bet on that.", he said, still annoyed. You opened more doors until you found a teapot and some tea. You poured the water into the teapot and turned on the stove, hoping it would warm up quickly. But with the intention of washing your hands, you almost fell to the floor, whereupon Daryl almost choked on laughter.

"Yer' freakin' drunk.", he said, explaining the obvious. But the fact that he was only now aware of that made you think.

"You too."

"No.", he replied, rubbing his eyes.

"Coward.", you then said and he glared at you. He knew that if he continued to refuse, he would eventually admit he was drunk. Therefore, it would have been worthwhile to try and show you the opposite. After all, he was much better at dealing with alcohol than you, so it was possible for him to get up without a problem. But the scene that presented itself made you stop in the kitchen. Instead of quietly getting up from the couch, he wanted to reach you by climbing over it. You remained silent and stared at him. He clung his fingers to the fabric and held the bottle in his mouth, so you couldn't help but cross your arms as if enjoying this ridiculous scene. Daryl leaned forward, trying to stretch a leg to climb, but as soon as he got it up, he turned back to his starting point.

"Wow, I have no words!", you said and began to applaud. Daryl murmured something, but still the bottle clamped between his teeth, it was impossible for you to understand. He walked on all fours to a chair, which he used as a support. Finally he stood. You laughed and looked at him as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

"To laugh so much, ya' must have drunk a lot." he observed, as if he were clear. Meanwhile, you checked the water on the stove, but it was still not hot enough.

"You know how it is.", you replied hastily, not wanting him to feel guilty for not coming: "What did you do?"

"I ate spaghetti."

"You can cook?", you almost screamed with laughter and wanted to annoy him. You looked at him curiously and hoped that he would continue to tell you about his night. His eyes studied you, it was as if he was not entirely convinced to tell you something, but you tried to make a motionless expression.

"Aaron invited me for dinner."

You couldn't help yourself and laughed. You saw the romantic scene by candlelight. As Aaron and Eric were in love while eating and Daryl in between with his usual 'manners'. Your laugh, however, was interrupted by his reaction. He scrambled to his feet and threw the chair down.

"The damn hell yer' laughin' at?", he yelled angrily: "Let's hear!"

You tried to rearrange it but the drunkenness did not help at all.

"Everything's okay!", you replied gesticulating. But he got more angry because you didn't take him seriously. As much as you tried to be serious, you felt the cramping in your stomach that made you want to laugh again. He then threw the bottle behind your shoulders against the wall. The wine spilled out and the broken glass spread on the floor. The noise was so loud and unexpected that you instinctively lowered yourself as if to avoid the sharp glass. He went menacingly forward, though his steps were not completely stable. You backed away slowly until you touched the cupboard, but he didn't seem to stop at all. You put your hands forward, hoping to block it until you finally found yourselves face to face. He pushed like crazy, but you did the same thing, though you were pretty scared. It was not the first time he had made such scenes, but this time there was something else in his eyes, something you had never seen before.

"Answer!", he underlined, articulating letter by letter.

His frenetic and warm breath. His face was so close. Your heart was throbbing, your muscles were shaking. You were trapped, but at the same time you felt strangely excited and ashamed.

"Daryl... I-...", you tried to say, before he angrily grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him, clenching your lips with greed. It was a furious, violent and insatiable kiss. Your tongues danced and hunted as if they had a lot to say, as if they had put many moments and several occasions on hold. You enjoyed yourselves, you nourished yourselves from this infinite moment. It was beautiful and painful at the same time, it was like holding a rose in your hands, smelling the petals, but bleeding because of the thorns. It was as if the time around you had stopped, it was as if only you both existed alone. The ticking of the clock in the room ended in fading until it disappeared, as did all the objects or sounds in that room. You only heard your hearts, their accelerated blows, their wishes. You never wanted to break away from these lips, but you did, forced by your own body, forced by the incessant need to breathe. You almost gasped as soon as you were released from its deadly grip you filled your lungs with oxygen at most. Daryl licked his lips as if trying to seduce you, as if he thought he had not succeeded. Your bodies were still together, as if they were not leaving a millimeter-like space. You stared out of breath at his diabolical eyes, trying to understand if all this was just a game, just a way to humiliate yourself or despise you with some of his usual phrases. Instead, he grabbed your hips and picked you up to sit on the kitchencounter. He wasn't exactly sympathetic to the action, so you hit your head against the kitchen cabinets. Daryl laughed, brought his mouth back to your lips and spread your legs with one hand so you could wrap him up. You twisted these around his hips and he pressed harder. But the dress bothered him. His fingers moved over your calves until he reached your knees and thighs and your back trembled. He noticed it and looked amused. Suddenly he bit his lip, made you flinch, pulled up your dress with a quick movement and pushed you towards him. Again your lips parted and again your lungs recovered and ignored your instincts. He touched you, played with his tongue on your neck and made you shudder.

"Do ya' still wanna laugh at me?", he suddenly asked.

"I have never laughed at you.", you replied, gently pressing your lips to his in an innocent kiss. He smiled at you, putting his hands against the closet door behind you, practically framing your face with his arms. Then you stopped him. "Daryl, we are drunk."

But he continued the action and ignored you.

"Daryl, we'll regret it.", you said again, grabbing his arms. He then stopped and stroked your face.

"Yeah.", he said, gasping: "I would kill if I woke up alone the next mornin' to realize that I didn't take advantage of this night."

As soon as he had finished, he unbuttoned his shirt and almost laughed at each button. He looked at you as if he was worried you could think. And indeed it was like that. Your head was confused and yet your body seemed to want it. For once you wanted to act without thinking, you wanted to be guided by instinct, by impulses. You did not know if it was love or a simple adventure, but it didn't matter, because at that moment you wanted nothing more than him. Love? If it includes everything, including the contradictions and transgressions of yourself, then yes, then it was love... Finally, you managed to get rid of the dress. It was a little embarrassing, but the light was weak and that helped you not to be ashamed of your appearance. He kissed you softly between your breasts, but then he pressed with his lips harder, nibbling and sucking at the same time. A scream escaped you but he didn't stop, in fact he bit more. You then gave him a slap in the face, he parted with a contented grin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"What?", he asked teasingly: "Did I hurt ya'?"

You did not answer and looked at him as if he were the most beautiful in this world. Yes, it hurt. Yes, you were drunk. But... You wished this night never ended. You knew for a long time that you actually liked this man very much, as much as he was the opposite of you. You didn't care if you had to deal with a terrible hangover the next morning, because you wanted to enjoy every single second in his company. Suddenly he grabbed you and let you dangle on his shoulder. But you found yourself again with your eyes closed, trying not to vomit. You knew very well what he was up to, but at the same time you had no idea if you could hold onto it. He tried to get up the stairs quickly, but his legs didn't seem to pay much attention to him. Daryl laughed and pushed open the door of the first room, which led directly up the stairs, avoiding more meters along the corridor. He threw you on the bed and let you jump. The nausea faded, but your head felt worse than before because of the speed with which you had been thrown.

"And now?", he whispered, leaning over you. He then reached out his arm to turn on the bedside light, but you immediately covered your eyes. Not because it was strong or dazzling, but because you didn't want to see your body.

"Please don't.", you prayed, blushing.

"No.", he answered and kissed you again. As he explained what he always wanted to do with your body, he slowly took off your stockings and kissed every inch of skin that was free. It was a nice feeling, pleasant and yet so embarrassing. You kept your eyes closed under your hands, hoping that the angst and fears would disappear as quickly as possible. The archer had not even closed the door. He finally looked at you and realized that you still hid your face in your hands and climbed on top of you.

"Look at me.", he whispered and put his hands on yours: "It's all right."  
You knew how hard he tried to look sober and sweet, but his gaze betrayed him. Nevertheless, you raised your hands and dive into his eyes with your eyes.

He smiled: "Damn, I thought ya' did that to not look at my fucked up face.", he joked.

Daryl managed to make you laugh, which strangely calmed you down. He kissed you and you bit your lip a bit. Then you noticed that he was staring at the scar on your thigh. "I hate it...", you said.

"It's fascinating.", he disapproved. You hated being teased... But Daryl raised his eyebrows as if he was challenging you. You looked at him blankly and did not understand where he was going with it. He grinned and then suddenly bit next to the wound. A painful sting pervaded you, enough to force you to bite your hand to suppress a moan.

"You're a fucking asshole.", you replied. He shrugged and grabbed his underpants, pulling them down slowly to irritate you and annoy you.

"Maybe, jus' a lil' bit.", he said with a grimace.

"What if someone comes back?", you asked, as the thought flashed through your head that the party would soon be over. But Daryl put a finger to your lips.

"They won't be here in a few hours. We've plenty of time."

The archer calmed you down and the passion rekindled. Then he squeezed you and forced you to lie down. He held your wrists with one hand over your head and you were there, lying naked on that mattress covered with bruises and hopes while he was over you. He spread your legs gently and pulled them up to make room while you buried your fingers in the mattress and already knew what would happen. As it happened, heat penetrated your lower abdomen and made room to reach your heart. It got crazy and accelerated so much, as if it would implode. You tried to hold back the moaning, but the more you tried, the more all your efforts were useless.

"Nobody can hear us.", he explained, though you were still trying to suppress the moans: "Let me hear yer voice."

You were again face to face, lips to lips, already sweaty and ready to enjoy this relationship to the fullest. One of his hands rested on your lower back while the other held your neck and caught between your hair to accompany you in your movements. You got up and sat down at his command, he led the game, but you didn't care. As long as you both enjoyed the moment, you were satisfied and happy. You both looked each other in the eye and almost didn't care about your sweaty bodies, as if you wanted to capture this image, this memory in your heads. It would be impossible to compare it to anything. Daryl was just himself. You seemed to love him. You were accomplices, with wounds still open and shared secrets. A sweet touch, a strong feeling, a gentle rocking. A constant search for oneself, in the fear of finding oneself, and the desire to restrain oneself in the impossibility and intertwine. Then he made you lie down and still clinging to you eagerly. You moved at the same time, marking a pace that was gradually getting faster. The breaths became deeper, broken by your own moans. Slowly your breathing returned to normal, although your body was still terribly shaking. Your head burned, you could not stand any movement and apparently he felt it too. Afterwards, Daryl lay down beside you, hugging you and pulling you to his side. You put a cheek on his chest, which you used as a pillow. He stroked your hair, holding you tight, almost afraid you might run away from him. But you stayed like that, quietly lying together in your own silence, in love.


End file.
